Magic of Love
by Mary Had A Little Lamb
Summary: GinxTom.  On the verge of death, Harry casts a spell that sends Ginny spiralling back to the past. What Ginny doesn't expect is to be sent so far back that she were to meet the younger version of the Future Dark Lord!
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER NOR ITS CHARACTERS!**

**Pairing: GinxTom**

**Summary: Sorry, but I don't believe in giving info away...**

* * *

><p><strong>Prologue- Where in Hagrid's shaggy beard am I?<strong>

_Hey! Voldy has the same type of nose as his snake!_, was the inappropriate thought which entered Ginny's mind at the wrong moment.

The grotesque basilisk was slithering menacingly towards them, as though closing in for the kill.

Ginny struggled, her fingers reaching desperately for her Unicorn-core-wand, which had been hexed out of her grasp before by some idiotic death eater. But the crimson red gashes covering herself caused pain to sear through her limbs, and shoot up her body – rendering her helpless to the impending threat.

This was the end. After enduring all that torture, all that continuous 'Crucios' cast, yet holding out firm, was this how it was destined to end? If that was so all the effort had gone down the drain. Not just her effort, but the honorable effort of those who had sacrificed their life for the sake of Voldermort's defeat. And that victory was certainly impossible if the Boy-Who-Lived were to be killed, as mentioned by Trelawney's prophecy.

Right, Professor Trelawney wasn't exactly the most reliable source of information, what with her mumbo jumbo prophecies. But Dumbledore had stepped up to justify it – and whatever Dumbledore had said had been correct so far… Even if he weren't around anymore.

"Gin-" Harry's words came out as a weak splutter. He barely looked Harry – nor, in a broader aspect, did he resemble a human. At this point, he looked very much like a twitching glob of blood, and Ginny began to wonder if she herself looked similar.

Ginny reached forward at Harry with the last ounce of strength she could possess and took his what-seemed-like-a-hand, tears welling in her eyes from both the physical pain, and the emotional pain which stabbed her. Harry...

"No time… to… to… explain." Apparently the words had taken off a lot of effort from Harry, as he was gasping for breath while pushing himself to continue. "I can… I… Cast you… you into the… the… the… pits of time… You'll survive. Let. Go…"

Along with the words, blood was practically 'flowing' out of his mouth like a waterfall. Maybe he was in a delusional state from losing too much blood, Ginny wondered. But she did not voice her inner thoughts out, instead squeezing Harry's hand tighter, in hope of soothing the pain.

Harry attempted to say more, but Ginny shushed him gently, saying weakly, "You're losing a lot of blood, Harry…"

Voldermort laughed, his laugh reverberating through the chambers, but the laugh rang hollow, empty – either way, the laugh was not a laugh. How can anyone not know how to **laugh**? Laughing was just taking one word and dragging it, and changing the pitches while you were at it. How could anyone screw up something so simple? Somehow, somewhere during the 'laughing' steps, Voldermort must have messed up.

But, Ginny pointed out, if he could laugh properly, he probably would abuse that 'power' as well. Like laughing during the most awkward situations, similar to this - when someone was on the verge of death. In that case, Ginny concluded, better that he couldn't laugh.

The death eaters behind him tried to make a weak attempt at a laugh to show some support, but it came out as bad as the Bloody Baron's singing.

This frightened Ginny. But that itself was an understatement. Ginny was more than stricken. And their pathetic laughter only made it worst.

_Just end it. Just finish it quickly if you must. **Stop** snickering, it sounds terrible._

The miserable-insult-for-a-mouth opened on the snake like face of Voldermort, and his words echoed without any remorse. "I terribly regret to break up this happy reunion, but… Ah, my precious Nagini." And he broke out into a phase of antic hissing.

Ginny knew even without the art of Parseltongue, that Voldermort was ordering his pet to finish them off, as Nagini suddenly was perked up into an attack mode, preparing to launch itself at the duo.

This was the end this was the end this was the end…thiswasthiswasthiswas…

A dazzling sphere of emerald green light emerged out of now where, illuminating the entire chamber as it swirled around Ginny, bringing looks of horror and shock on the faces of Dark Lord and his minions. It was beautiful... Faintly through the mist, Ginny thought she spotted memories of the past whirling and spiraling within it. Heart wrenching memories and memorable memories. Both types, rekindling and combusting from the core of the hurricane of twirling magic. Behold... Behold its intense power...

But in a second or two of admiring its splendor, the initial shock which coloured Voldermort's face snapped off and turned into panic at once. He drew his wand shakily and trained it on Harry.

He** knew**, Ginny realised, what the result of the spell was. He **knew** that spell somehow. And apparently he **knew** it wasn't on his side.

She would thank their saviour in heaven (hopefully). Now was too late for any heroic deeds. She and Harry were done for hands down. But it didn't matter now, at least she had Harry to accompany her. With him, dying didn't feel scary one bit, it felt... it felt like a relief; like a burden tossed aside. Finally, these chains after chains of nightmares would come to an end. Ginny **smiled**, she actually **smiled **into the glimmering mist.

Then, with a jolt, Ginny realised that...

The awe powerful light, was flowing from… flowing from…

HARRY! With his free wand hand, Harry had managed to get hold of his wand… And considering the state Harry was in, and that this was some sort of unknown, unidentifiable and highly complicated spell, it was simply just… amazing.

Just on the brink of unconsciousness, four incoherent thoughts flitted through Ginny's mind.

It's beautiful… What spell was this?

Oh, I swear, that evil snake's looks as if it's scowling…

Lord of all things, will we end up in heaven or hell?

Harry, I love you…

And just like that, Ginny was engulfed by the hungry darkness.

* * *

><p>Light filtered into her eyes. And it took Ginny a moment to realize that she was alive.<p>

Alive? Not possible! But yes, somehow her mind worked pretty well… and she could blink. This was hardly logical, yet: Were those indications that she was perhaps alive?

_Or maybe in heaven or hell, but hopefully heaven-_

HARRY!

Ginny jolted upright, the past incidents slowly slamming into her at great speed. "Harry!" She yelled, "Harry! HARRY!"

_Was Harry okay? Was he alive as well? Was he alright? HARRY!_

Then her vision began to clear, and she found herself staring face to face with a plump and kindly woman, whose concern was etched all over her features.

"Are you fine, miss? You were screaming rather loudly… well, non-stop."

Ginny couldn't help but immediately take a liking to the lady. She seemed nice and all… But remember what Dad said? '_Don't ever let your guard down, or you might live to regret it'_.

Slowly, Ginny's vision adjusted to the light, and she started to see clearly now, that she was seated, propped up by a pillow, on a comfortable, but pretty much an old fashion designed bed, inside a HOSPITAL WING?

_Yes, it has to be a hospital wing, what with rows and rows of beds… But isn't this similar to Hogwarts Hospital wing? Wait, there's a hospital wing in heaven? _

The most important question of all hit Ginny hard. _Where in the world am I?_ _Heaven? THERE's A HOSPITAL WARD IN HEAVEN?_

"Miss…" The lady touched her hand lightly when Ginny failed to reply and Ginny realised that she had been watching her, though silently, but rather intently. "Are you alright?"

_No. I feel like I've just eaten slugs. Now I finally understand how Ron feels, and boy, that feels terrible. _

Instead Ginny forced a nod, licked her dried lips, and croaked weakly, "Where… where am I?"

_Did someone save me from Voldermorts grip or something? Or did Voldermort withdraw his forces for the time being?_

The lady smiled with relief upon hearing Ginny speak. "The Hogwarts hospital wing. You were in a terrible state when Professor Dumbledore first found you! Good Merlin! All covered in blood! Unconscious for six days straight, I'd wager. But you look much _much_ better now, after being fixed and cleaned up."

Ginny's mouth went even drier than before, (though it was barely possible for her lips were already peeling) at the mention of _Dumbledore's _name. _Dumbledore,_ Ginny thought painfully, _wasn't he… dead? _So it could mean only one thing: _I'm dead. _This was probably some sort of afterlife or something. Well, an afterlife blessed with a _hospital wing._

Ginny considered pinching herself to see if she was alive, or really _dead dead_, but decided that asking the lady would be much easier.

"Am I… am I alive?" Ginny questioned, dread burning within her. _Please be alive, please be alive, please be-_

The lady blinked with some surprise, but concern immediately replaced it. "Very much. Very much alive, dear."

In that case… _Dumbledore_, Ginny mouthed with pleasant shock, _Dumbledore, what in Merlin's name are you doing here then?_

Harry Potter suddenly came to Ginny's mind as well. _HARRY? Was he perhaps alive as well? Was he okay?_

Out of anticipation, Ginny lurched forward, feeling a surge of pain shoot up her limbs. She gasped in shock, but continued to try to get up from the bed.

"For goodness sake miss! Relax! You're going to end up breaking more ribs like this!" The lady exclaimed, forcing Ginny back down gently. And Ginny was grateful for that, as she realized that if she had attempted to stand, she might faint. Faint inside goodness-knows-where-I-am.

"Harry," she rasped. "Where's Harry? Is he okay? I need to get to him."

Confusion slipped into the lady's eyes. "You were… screaming his name earlier, weren't you, miss? Who's… Harry?"

_Who's Harry? Who's Harry Potter – the Boy Who Lived? You don't know who's…? _

Seeing the apprehensive look on Ginny's face, the lady whispered, "It's alright miss, everything's fine. Go on and rest a bit. When you're all fine, Armando- I mean... Headmaster Dippet has requested to have a talk with you. But I won't let him in - not until you're all rested."

The lady flashed Ginny one more reassuring smile before heaving herself onto a rocking couch and closing her eyes simultaneously, and rocking in a continuous movement, _back and forth_, _back and forth_, as though to demonstrate to Ginny how to rest.

_HEADMASTER DIPPET? Sweet Merlin! Yes, Headmaster Dippet had been Hogwart's Headmaster before Professor Dumbledore succeeded him years ago… What… what year was this?_

Ginny's blood turned cold.

Questions began turning turmoil in her head, and Ginny tried to voice them out loud, but no sound came out. Instead, she found her consciousness gradually dissipate from her…

Harry's dying words echoed in her head.

"_I can… I… Cast you… you into the… the… the… pits of time… You'll survive."_

_I can cast you into the pits of time? _

_Cast me into the past?_

_What… what spell was that? It had definitely something to do with this._

_And why did Harry cast it?_

_I need to find out its properties if I dare dream of returning to the present – or help out in destroying the Dark Lord._

_Yes. I must do that._

And for the second time that _day_, Ginny felt herself falling, falling through a bottomless pit of darkness entwined with nightmares of an evil snake-like beast..

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So this is the first one... I hope its okay! **


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: I DO NOT OWN ANYONE (as in the characters) - they belong to J.K Rowling DUHHH! :D**

****SUMMARY (And warning on what to expect!): This chapter is pretty slow, cos I'm introducing two new characters! :D It explores more on Ginny's past you see... And will help a bit when she meets... ahem ahem.****

_****Previously...****_

_And for the second time that _day_, Ginny felt herself falling, falling through a bottomless pit of darkness entwined with nightmares of an evil snake-like beast.._

**Chapter 1 **

**-_ Nightmares and_ _Legilimens and an undesirable uncounter-_**

_Let me in, Gin. Please. _

It was a nice voice, a familiar one. A voice which she missed with her life. She opened herself- her mind, her thoughts, her everything, to that voice.

The night flew by on the back of a _dragon_.

Dragons weren't bad. In fact, Ginny loved dragons – probably rubbed off from her brother Charlie's uncanny obsession. Riding a dragon was indeed _exhilarating_, but the problem was: she was _dangling off_ the back of the dragon, clinging on for her dear life and also that she simply _couldn't_ seem to get off. Just like the nightmares - lurching, diving, spine-chilling, going on and on, and refusing to ever come to an end.

It was only about midway through the night, where the dreams underwent an adverse change. From bizarre nightmares, to the sweetest of dreams based on mirthful memories. When George had set off his box of Muggle crackers, accidentally searing Percy's favourite 'Crouch' picture, causing Percy to go on a mad rampage about the house; when Fred had tricked Mother into trying the bertie botts every flavor beans - vomit flavor; when Malfoy had tripped on his Nimbus 2000 and fell splat on his face while insulting Hermione; when Harry and her had shared their first kiss….

Ginny reached out, to touch Harry's face one more time…

The sound of glasses crashing to the floor, and Harry's image began to shift till it _transformed _into a strangely familiar elderly man with a short but conspicuous silver beard.

"Oof! My glasses!" He exclaimed, before holding out his hand, and performing a simple '_Accio_' spell on it, causing it to whizz back, positioning itself lopsidedly on the ridge of his nose.

"Oh, Albus! What did I say? You heard me loud and clear! I did warn you not to go to close to her! She could have strangled you unknowingly- , MERLIN! Alas! She's awake!"

Ginny's eyes flew open, and instantaneously a figure rushed towards her at mad speed. The other merely brushed his cloak, adjusted his glasses into place, and murmuring something about, 'getting his aiming right sometime soon'. **(A/N: His glasses)**

"OH ALBUS! ALBUS! You _must _see! She's awake!"

"Yes, yes, I'll be right there," He replied collectedly, before strolling towards Ginny's bedside.

_Where in the world am I? Please, not another nightmare…_

Ginny rubbed her eyes and struggled to sit up. And for some reason, her entire body ached with sharp, but bearable pain.

"Nope! No you don't! You! You stay down! Don't get up! Wait a second!" A lady's breathless voice rang in her ears, before a figure bustled off at top speed, flying off like a seeker after her precious snitch.

_Oh, just like Mother_, Ginny realized with fond nostalgia. _Just like the good old times when Mother always ran after Fred and George to give them a good spanking after they put some disgusting baby Flobberworms in her afternoon cup of Butterbeer or something._

And Ginny smiled. Her smile felt pretty unused, considering she didn't really require it for quite a while. But the sensation of smiling was simply... addictive. She could smile and smile and smile…

"That's right. Smiling's good for you. Go on." And Ginny's attention was once again diverted to the strange, yet elegant man with a short but outstanding silvery grey beard.

_Man, I must really look like a retarded smiling fool to him._ Ginny thought, but couldn't detect a single trace of sarcasm in his voice.

_Wait a second…, was that… - PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE?_

Could it be? Apparently, he looked a notch or two younger, but retained that haphazard funky dress fashion of his… And as though to top all that up, he was studying a box of muggle candy - sherbet lemon (though its wrapping was different from that of her time), lovingly through that half moon glasses of his. Overall, despite slight differences in the length of his beard, Professor Dumbledore was clearly recognizable…

Furthermore, Ginny noticed, for some reason he had _eyebags_. Ginny had to stifle another smile. _Professor Dumbledore with eyebags?_ WAHAHAHAHAHA! It made him look like that Muggle Animal that Charlie had pointed out once. _Oh yes, the Panda. Charlie had mentioned that they weren't half the size of a Dragon, but just as aggressive if you provoked it._

"Errr… Had a rough night, sir?" Ginny couldn't keep the jovial smile off her face: For one, he did resemble that Panda, and for two, she already felt unnervingly safe around him.

Professor Dumbledore wasn't exactly focused on her at the moment. Rather, he was busily trying to shake out a few pieces of Sherbet Lemon which were stubbornly stuck together.

"Err… Sir?" Ginny asked again, wondering if he'd even processed her question at all.

"What? Oh yes, a rough night, all right," but the Professor seemed distracted. He continued shaking the box until finally, out of pure perseverance and hard work, the candy unstuck, and three small drops landed into his palm. "Ah this!" He cried out joyfully. "My favourite Muggle candy since forever! Care to have one?"

At this, the same lady (whom Ginny recognized as the one who spoke with her before) literally rammed through the door at alarming agility, _whilst_ holding a tray of cups and a bowl of soup, before hurrying over to Ginny's bedside and shoving poor Dumbledore aside before he could complete his offer.

"No! I _don't_ allow _you_ to offer any goodies which are _detrimental_ to my patients health!" She said to Dumbledore, before turning to Ginny, smiling, and passing her a cup from the tray, "Here, have a cup of Butterbeer. Warms you up nicely!"

Ginny watched as Professor Dumbledore, without hesitation, contently popped all three Lemon Drops right into his mouth.

_Whoa, she __**is**__ like a whirlwind. Amazing __**hidden**__ speed. And her reflexes. She's got one of a seeker, I'd reckon. Nearly as good as Harry…._

_HARRY…- No, don't think of him yet. Later, wait till you're better, then… Then we can solve this 'time gap' problem._

Ginny suppressed her inner conflict and accepted the drink gratefully, taking tiny sips off it. _Taste as good as its future version! Not bad!_

"Um… Ginny…" The Matron (the lady) said suddenly, looking slightly sheepish.

_She knows my name! _Ginny exclaimed in her mind, _though I don't really recall sharing it with her…_

Without another word, the Matron went directly into what she intended to share. "I think you should know that I sent for Albus- I mean, Professor Dumbledore to perform some form of _Legilimens _on you while you were… unconscious…"

_LEGILIMENS_…? Ginny's mind screamed. _ON ME?_

'W.H.A.T?' Ginny blurted out loud, sending the contents of Butterbeer spilling all over herself. In utter disbelief, she re-iterated her question in a calmer manner. "You… you what?"

The Matron shifted rather uncomfortably, before finding some soup bowls to rearrange on the tray. "You were… screaming, thrashing, and you summoned _wandless_ magic on the…" She gestured to the window at the corner. "Over there, but Al- Professor Dumbledore pretty much fixed it up." A hesitation, then the Matron looked up to face Ginny, the 'sheepishness' immediately transforming into fear. "And at one point, you… You shrieked the… the… the… _killing curse_. Several times. Good thing I was… well, holding on to your wand at that time…"

_The nightmares, _Ginny realized. _It had to be…_

"I tried to wake you," the Matron quickly added. "But I think the sleeping drought I prescribed you earlier put you out for quite some bit. I… Well, I had to strap you to the bed, and run out to call a Professor who could do some calming of… um, your mind. You see, I'm not very good at _Legilimens_ of any sort. Just some simple healing spells and potions…"

Ginny just sat there, taking everything in, in strangled horror and disbelief. _Professor. Dumbledore. Performed. Legilimens. On. Me…_

Which meant…

_Professor Dumbledore had seen __**everything**__. Anything and everything there was in her mind. He had seen the future. He had seen… He had seen Voldermort. He __**knew **__that she herself… was from the __**future**__._

Which _explained _once again in other words….

_Her sweet dreams earlier, the way the Matron had anxiously yelled for Dumbledore to step aside from her bedside, Dumbledore's Panda eyes, and the way the Matron was so familiarized with her name!_

Ginny felt too weak to hold any feelings of contempt. Instead, she twisted her neck to take a look to see how Dumbledore was reacting to the situation, only to find him passionately _unsticking _two pieces of Sherbet Lemon.

"Um… Professor Dumbledore sir?" She whispered, the shock causing her voice to tremble ever so softly. She would bombard him with a thousand questions, scream the place down, stomp around like a spoilt kid, and…

"Thank you." The words came out rushed and unprepared, and even _unsure_. But as soon as she said it, she felt _fulfilled_, _satisfied_, and even somewhat happier. After all, hadn't Dumbledore spent a lot of _his _own effort on this? Something to be grateful for, really.

A mischievous twinkle slipped into Dumbledore's eyes, and he waved it away humbly.

"Thank you too, Matron." Ginny nodded towards the lady. "Hadn't had that much happiness at one go."

The Matron shrugged it off, before saying, "Anyway, Ginny, Ar- Headmaster Dippet had requested to see you. Told him you were out. Ah that man! Preposterous! Actually thought of _barging_ into the ward! Too prideful for his own good, but hadn't half the wit of Professor Dumbledore, don't you think?"

"You flatter me, Felta. I really don't suppose you to be spreading untruths of the Headmaster to his students." Dumbledore replied cynically – for the first time not having any lemon drops in his mouth.

Ginny grinned widely at this, her previous terror gradually disappearing with the change of atmosphere. _So Armando Dippet is a proud man? Interesting!_

"Either way," the Matron interjected, "whatever it is, we'll have to get the bed and the carpet cleaned off from the Butterbeer spill _before_ the Headmaster arrives. Or the roof might come down as well. Errr," She side-glanced Dumbledore hopefully. "Care to? As you may _already_ know, some witches aren't as skilled as you are."

* * *

><p>The Headmaster arrived shortly after the Matron had cleared Ginny's lunch tray the next day. He arrived once again with Dumbledore by his side, in a deep, serious, and outrightly weird conversation on <em>hippogriffs<em>.

Dippet was as bad as Dumbledore when it came to fashion sense. Although the colours he wore were much duller than Dumbledore's, and the immediate impression he gave was him being a dull and colourless person.

The Matron glanced at the secret 'conference', narrowed her eyes darkly at Dippet, and bustled out once more.

"So…" Dippet was saying to Dumbledore. "This is the transfer student you were referring to?"

_Transfer student? _Ginny's jaw dropped._ Dumbledore __**convinced**__ him that I was a transfer student after what he saw?_

_Don't show any signs of fraud, just play along,_ Ginny cautioned herself_. _Other than Hogwarts. Ginny couldn't think of anywhere else to stay albeit her recovery. _I am NOT going to camp out along Diagon Alley or something for the rest of my life._

Dippet turned to Ginny, and recited all her particulars at one go, while giving her the I-know-all-about-you look. "So… Ginerva Molly Fridwarn, you're a transfer student from the Beauxbatons Acadamy of Magic. You're in Year 6, and, apparently, you _injured_ yourself upon your arrival in Hogwarts. Right? Yes, right." Dippet finished and confirmed everything before Ginny could even open her mouth.

_Yes, he's rather self-assuming and conceited. _Ginny noticed wryly. _And long winded and BOAR-RING, _she added as Dippet began to confirm the rest of her schedule _without_ even bothering to glance up at Ginny a single time – and Ginny began to wonder if he'd perhaps forgotten that there were others in the room besides himself.

"And, you're to be sorted… let's see, 1, 2... next week, coming Monday.. You'd have recovered by then, so the timing's perfect. And… Yes, that's all. Good day to you, Miss Fridwarn."

And with that, Dippet collected his stack of papers with a swift wave of his wand, before swiveling around, and abruptly making for the exit without turning back. He only did so once to call Dumbledore after himself, _possibly to continue their highly __**intellectual**__ and __**interesting**__ conversation on Hippogriffs._

_I hadn't __**even **__said a word! _Ginny thought, rather upset. _He might as well have held a conversation with his broomstick!_

She would have continued brooding over Dippet's mis-manners, if not for his last words sinking into her head.

'_And you're to be sorted… let's see, 1, 2, next week, coming Monday.'_

Sorted? Sorted again! She'd probably end up in Gryffindor! But probably Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff wouldn't be _that _bad. But if she did get sorted into… well, Slytherin (though there was simply not a single possibility), then Grandpa Weasley would certainly curse her for her ill luck…

Oh, let the matter rest! This was _temporary_! _Temporary_, she drilled into herself. But somehow, a fluttering in her stomach warned her that _this_ certainly wasn't _temporary_.

**A/N: My first story! I hope its okay! I really don't mind critiques! :D**


	3. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: Once again I shall say: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER, OR GINNY, OR TOM RIDDLE, OR well you get the idea...**

**Summary: Heh, take a look at the title!**

**PAIRING: GinxTom**

**WARNING: EVIL DARK LORD ALERT!**

**Previously...**

_**Sorted? Sorted again! She'd probably end up in Gryffindor! But probably Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff wouldn't be that bad. But if she did get sorted into… well, Slytherin (though there was simply not a single possibility), then Grandpa Weasley would certainly curse her for her ill luck…**_

_**Oh, let the matter rest! This was temporary! Temporary, she drilled into herself. But somehow, a fluttering in her stomach warned her that this certainly wasn't temporary**_.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2 - the mean sorting hat and a scary revelation!<strong>

Dippets estimation was as bad as his demeanor. It was unmistakably off.

"ONE WEEK?" The Matron had hollered outrageously, her plump cheeks turning red, then white, then red once again, upon hearing of the date of Ginny's Sorting Ceremony. "As I've mentioned, that wizard's _thick_ in the head! Honestly, he _expects_ you to be _fully_ recovered in _ONE WEEK_?"

Apparently, having held some sort of grudge against Dippet, the Matron probably wasn't the most reliable person to agree with when it came to Dippets _weaker _(more refinely put)traits. But Ginny had to agree with her for once, that: _Dippet indeed hadn't half the wit of Dumbledore. Or, he just doesn't bother to use his brains._

"Errr… Um… Yes…" Ginny lowered her eyes meekly, not daring to say anymore. If she'd ever learnt anything from the experience of having Mrs Weasley as her Mother, she'd know not to say anything else until the outburst blew over.

"You'll take about _TWO WEEKS_ _at the least_! Even with _all _the spells and potions in my head!" The Matron fumed, beginning to vent her anger by _**manually**_ scrubbing a stain on the floor ferociously – as though it were Dippets face. Then she realized its stupidity, and then sighing, cast a little spell over the stain instead.

_She __**is**__ really protective over her patients, _Ginny couldn't help but smile a secret smile. _Just like the Matron during __**my **__time._

"What's so funny, Miss Friwarn?" The Matron snapped good-naturedly at Ginny, and Ginnys smile couldn't stop itself from widening.

* * *

><p>Either the Matron was really experienced, or she was just extraordinarily gifted in her trade. For Ginny took exactly two weeks to recover, and Dippet was forced to admit he was wrong by postponing her Sorting Ceremony.<p>

The week flew by rather unnoticed, dotted with constant nightmares of course, and not before long, Ginny _awoke_ to find the soot-coloured sorting hat being lowered onto her head by dull-faced Dippet himself.

_Six years ago, the hat was too big for my head, _Ginny mused. _Six years later, the hat's still too big for my head. Flops right over my vision. It's ONE big hat, OR my head is just small._

_Your head is the one that's small, _that hat replied bitingly. _Hmmm… Interesting specimen… I dare say you aren't from this era, no?_

Ginny's mind gulped, if her mind was capable of doing so. _Now that's two people who know. Well, if the hat was considered a person…_

The hat ignored her speculation, and sulked. _Your memories give me the shivers. I wish I could hop off your head and run, but no, I don't have legs! A pity, really! Now, let's get over with this… _

_You are __**smart**__, but through hardships you've since learned to be __**cunning**__. _

_You are __**loyal**__, but bad experiences have taught you to be __**distrustful**__. _

_And no doubt about it, you are __**brave**__, but boy, you have one big __**ambition**__ down there. What is it? To return to destroy the… _

_Stop prying! _Ginny's mind yelled involuntarily. _I don't give a damn what house I'm in! Get over with it!_

As though to play on Ginny's temper, the hat _smirked_ and gorged on in delight. _Very similar thought processes to somebody I remember… Was it… Oh yes, that Riddle boy._

_WHATTTT? _Ginny yelped mentally, jerking backwards, causing the hat to flip backwards and land with a 'flop!' on the ground.

Dippet bent over and reached for the hat…

The audience _unsettled_ her, or at least their expressions did. She was famous, or that _hat_ was at the very least. They were all staring questioningly at _her_, or at the _hat_, with gazes which spat out clearly: _What the hell is going on? _

Well, if that was the case, Ginny hoped they were staring at the hat. It was the hat's fault, really… -

"SLYTHERIN!" The hat piped out suddenly, as though to _save_ Ginny from the awkwardness and embarrassment she was facing at the moment, and, at the same time, literally _cursing_ Ginny to Azkaban.

Awkward silence filled the hall.

Ginny tensed and clenched her fist with anticipation.

_Oh, so now even Slytherin doesn't want me. Not that I even want them…_

Out of the blue, a few unsure claps rose from the Slytherin table, as though they weren't positive they heard the verdict correctly. But soon more joined, and a comforting thunderous clap echoed within the great hall.

Ginny shot the sorting hat the 'you-so-are-gonna-pay-for-that' look as it was placed onto the table by Dippet, before making her way off the platform, and without looking up once, reluctantly seated herself at the rear end of the Slytherin table, next to a dark-brown-haired witch.

_So now Granpa weasley is going to curse me as well. Great._

_Now, what would Harry do? He'd probably just rip the hat into pieces in front of everyone… And Hermione? I guess she won't do a thing except thrash all those Stinkin' Slytherins in every test… And… Ron? Maybe curse 'bloody hell!' and take the first train out of Hogwarts._

_No… Don't think about Ron… Not Ron…_

But Ginny couldn't do any of these. She had to keep a low profile, figure out how to get of this time period, and BOOMZ, get back to her era.

Ginny wasn't paying attention to the rest of Professor Dippet's speech. It went _blablabla_ into one ear, and _blablabla _out from the other ear. It finished with a 'now let us begin our dinner', and everyone began to wolf down their meals hungrily.

But Ginny had no appetite. _I mean, who would have? After being sentenced to a house equal to __**Azkaban**__?_

* * *

><p>Diagonally across Ginny, at the head of the Slytherin table, a distinctively handsome dark haired prefect with cold sapphire-blue eyes studied the new Slytherin specimen meticulously.<p>

It was of course necessary to pre-determine the worth of his subjects before he were to entrust anything to them.

Her hair was vivid-flaming red, he noticed, and she was lithe in figure, not very outstanding in features, and her behavior somehow gave the impression that she was rather… _weak. _

Weak? In that case, she was more or less useless to him. But perhaps she could play the fine role of his scapegoat though.

_How wrong he was. _

He watched as girl looked up and scanned the Slytherin table with suspicion, her eyes dark and heavily laced with mistrust, practically bearing holes into each member of the table, as though digging into their minds, performing…_ Legilimens_?

It pretty much interested him to observe her seeming _self-afflicted_ misgivings to every single person in the hall. Until, she became aware that she was an object of interest to someone else as well, and stared him right into the eye.

_Her eyes are brown_, Riddle noted in shock (which was quickly contained), and _**bright**__ brown as well_._ And yet, appearing so dark, calculative and guarded._

Her stare intensified with every second, and Riddle lips curled up with a smirk. _Oh, so she wants the play the who's-the-most intimidating game? Very well then._

* * *

><p>Ginny finally tore her gaze off the unsettling boy seated at the head of the table, suppressing a shiver. He looked somehow familiar...<p>

_He's handsome, in a sort of dark and sharp way. Probably the dangerous-evil-slithering- python-type, who would without hesitation, nip you from your butt when you're not looking. _

The thing was: his very presence perturbed her for some reason. Well, to be honest, she was suspicious of practically everyone with the ugly green snake-crest on their school uniform. But that one in particular just gave her the creeps.

Anyway, enough of that _creepster_. She would sort him out later.

"Excuse me…" She tapped the brown haired witch sitting beside her on the shoulder lightly. "Are we allowed to be excused from dinner?"

Ginny actually intended to make a beeline for the library so as to continue her research on that strange spell which Harry had summoned, and quickly make a breakthrough so that she could disappear as fast from this place as she could.

The witch turned to her, and her eyes flickered with uncertainty under Ginny's gaze. "Yes… Yes, I suppose. You're… not hungry?"

This witch seemed different from the rest of her Slytherin counterparts… She appeared timid, tired, shy, defeated, fearful, and lastly, remorseful, for some reason. And there seemed to be an inner conflict going on within her, as though she was _blaming_ herself for something…

_But then again, all those slimy snakes loved to give misgivings._

_Remember, when they all joined Voldermort during the Second Wizarding War?_

Then Ginny realized with a start that her manners were nearly equivalent to that of Dippets. Oh Merlin! She hadn't even asked her her name, or introduced herself for that matter!

"No, not really hungry," Ginny attempted a smile. "I think you've heard my name just now, right? I'm Ginerva Molly Weas- I mean, Fridwarn. You can call me Ginny if you like. And yours?"

The girl smiled a timid smile at this, "Um… Olive Hornby. Nice to meet you."

Ginny flashed another hurried smile back.

_Olive Hornby? Wasn't it the girl Myrtle usually talked about? The girl who always bullied her? Doesn't seem like the Pansy 'I'm-a-complete-bitch-slap-me' type. In fact, she looks like a victim herself! _

But Ginny's thoughts were interrupted when a pale-haired, pale faced, and basically 'pale'-everything boy scooted over to her.

The first thought that struck her was: _DRACO MALFOY WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU DOING HERE?_

No kidding. That guy was a replica of Draco Malfoy. Slim – check, tall - check, pointed chin -check, evil smirk – check, that's about everything.

The second thought that struck her was: _Hey, wasn't that guy like sitting next to that__** creepster**__ at the __**other**__ end of the table? Don't tell me he walked one __**whole**__ round just to say hi._

_Fishy._

"Hi," The-replica-of-Draco said rather pleasantly. "I'm Abraxas Malfoy. I suppose… you're Ginerva, aren't you? So… I assume you're a transfer, no?"

_Oooh! A Malfoy! Interesting. I should have guessed. If only Draco could __**fake**__ an actual __**nice**__ smile so well. _

_His grandfather could do it better than him._

"Yes." A taut and guarded reply. Ginny _wasn't_ going to let out any information to _Draco_, or his _father_, or even his _grandfather_. Anyone who had light pale hair was out of her _'friend-list'_.

"So… You're in your six year?"

"Yes. You?"

"Yep, me too. Um… Err…"

* * *

><p>Riddle watched their conversation without amusement. Apparently, Malfoy <em>wasn't <em>making any progress.

When he'd commanded Malfoy to find out _more_ about her, he hadn't meant for him to re-iterate questions they already knew the answers to.

Completely disregarding his dinner, Riddle found himself taking note throughout the conversation to _punish_ Malfoy for his lack of intelligence and efficiency. He was practically _faltering_ under her! _Weak_! As weak as a _pathetic_ Muggle. _Worthless._

Riddle stood up, his patience at its last straw, but his face a mask, devoid of emotion. And as he stood, pairs of eyes fixed themselves on him. Fewer out of fear, some out of reverence, most out of admiration, and others, mainly the girls, out of lovesickness. As he passed, he effortlessly faked a warm smile at them, and they squealed with utmost delight.

_Those type were the easiest to manipulate. Complete Airheads, those. _But he did nothing about them for they did help to spread his 'propaganda' after all.

He was approaching the conversation between Malfoy and that Friwarn girl, when she excused herself, bade farewell to Hornby and Malfoy, before collecting her belongings and rushing upstairs in a flurry.

From the way Riddle's manner turned _deadly_ calm, those from his inner circle tensed, knowing that someone was more-than dead meat.

* * *

><p>Ginny had captured a short passing fear in Abraxas eyes when he had replied: <em>"That one… His name is, um… <em>_**Tom Riddle**__."_

As for Olive, she had smiled and said happily (for the first time) that 'he's very kind and good looking'.

Ginny had blanched at the irony.

And Abraxas had quickly nodded without a word.

_Tom Marvolo Riddle, Lord Voldermort. _Ginny _would_ have _cried _for receiving such ill luck to be thrown into the same era as Voldermort's youthful self.

But past experiences had told her that _crying_ was useless. She had cried when George had lost his ear; she had cried when Fred died; she had cried when Ron had betrayed them; she had cried when Harry was badly injured… She had always cried, but everything still remained unchanged.

And when she'd seen from the corner of her eye, the king-of-all-snakes approaching them for some strange reason, she had hurriedly thanked Abraxas and Olive, before running off in fear.

She was expecting Voldermort to throw a hex, a jinx, or even the _killing curse_ at her for _daring_ to run off from him like that, but no green light emerged – and she was still very much alive.

Only then, after calming down and organizing her thoughts, could she hear footsteps approach her from behind.

_The Dark Lord has come to hunt you down! Pull out your wand Ginny! Turn and Fight!_

But instead, to her relief, Olive's soft and timid voice called out from behind, "Err… Gin-ny? Do you need a guide?"

Ginny grinned; aware she looked utterly stupid pulling out her wand. She quickly slipped it back into her pocket, hoping Olive didn't catch anything.

_Oh yes, I'm supposed to be new, huh?_

"Thank you, Olive." Ginny replied, feeling genuinely grateful. Now with one person to accompany her, the Dark Lord's threat seemed to dissipate.

Now, to the Library, time to study a bit about the spell. Boy, if Hermione knew, she _would_ certainly be proud.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I err... Kinda enjoyed writing the story... So I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as well!**


	4. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**Pairing: GinxTom**

**Summary: Itss a secretttt!**

**Previously...**

_**"Thank you, Olive." Ginny replied, feeling genuinely grateful. Now with one person to accompany her, the Dark Lord's threat seemed to dissipate.**_

_**Now, to the Library, time to study a bit about the spell. Boy, if Hermione knew, she would certainly be proud.**_

**Chapter 4-Dead Dumb Library**

To be honest, Ginny wasn't the library-type. During her past six years in Hogwarts, she could proudly declare that she hadn't once stepped into the library. Hermione had praised the Hogwarts library more than once, but then, that was Hermione for you.

_There's no need for me to __**pretend**__ I'm new to the library, _Ginny thought sheepishly as Olive gently pushed open the door and invited her in.

"It's a nice library," Ginny said lamely. She twisted her neck to survey the rows and rows of bookshelves which were lined neatly against the seemingly newly painted walls.

"A complete collection too," Olive nodded mildly in agreement. "Tens of thousands of… Well, just books."

"Oh, so I can just take any book I require?"

She smiled lightly and wearily at the same time. "Pretty much… You got to get permission from Madam Zelda first. She's the librarian. She's as protective of her scope as the Matron. Best you be careful. Though she's usually pretty busy, hardly ever in, but has this thing with books. You know, she refuses downright to give up her position. Says that no one else deserves to be _guardian_ of the library other than her"

If the librarian was _like_ the Matron... An image of the Matron cursing Dippet came to mind, and Ginny grinned at this. _Yep, I really wouldn't want to be in her black books._

"She's left it open… Isn't she scared that someone might just snag a book and zip off?" Ginny wondered aloud, somehow feeling happier that Olive looked more revived.

"Oh, her!" Olive exclaimed, her eyes shining with amusement. "She has this belief you know, that books are like the world and all that _muggle-junk_! Thinks that 'young witches and wizards should nourish their mind at all times of day'! Hey I'm quoting her you know! I remember once Professor Dippet and her got into an epic quarrel over shutting down the library when she was out, and well, of course she won! She practically screamed the school down, and Dippet went all red faced and quickly slipped off!"Then as though realizing that she had spoken too much, her shy demeanor crept back, and she began to fidget with her fingers. "Well… Err… Yeah… That's why it's open…" And then slipped into complete silence.

Ginny laughed at that, _she actually __**laughed**__! _She had grinned, smiled, but this was the first time she had _actually __**laughed**__!_

_I'm returning to the good old Ginny, _she noted happily. _Not the __**cynical skeptical scary Ginny**__._

After all she did begin to realize that her gaze generally _freaked_ people out for some unknown reason. She would just look in one direction to simply _check-something-out_, and those people actually _faltered_ under her _innocent_ stare… Even the sorting hat, no matter how annoying, had pointed out she had changed _drastically_.

_Do I really portray myself to be worse than a __**slippery sneaky snake**__? _

She shivered as Voldermort's cold, guarded, and calculative eyes came into her mind. _Certainly no one can beat him, right?_

Olive brightened at her comfortingly chiming laughter, and gained some confidence to continue. "There're… you know, um… many sections, there're just err… fantasy books, and then the potions, herbology, divination, you get the idea – the boring stuff, yeah, also…" Olive waved to the far end of the library, "There's the _Restricted Section_… Year 1-5, not allowed… Year 6 onwards, for school work purposes… Basically, some of the books are chained to the, um, bookshelf. One jumped on me and tried to bite my ear off earlier this year, and no, I don't intend to go in it again."

* * *

><p>After that, Olive had settled in one of the chairs near the fantasy section and said she'd try to get some rest. Though Ginny wondered how it was possible, <em>for the books are pretty intimidating…<em>

_Or its just me._

"Really, you should go back to your dorm and rest!" Ginny had advised her earlier, but Olive had waved it away and muttered something about 'showing her the way back' before drifting off into rhythmic snoring.

_I didn't know Slytherins were so genial, _Ginny thought as she crept away, in hopes of not disturbing Olive.

_Nah, it's just that she's just the nicer type. _

It was pretty _disturbing_ to admit that Slytherins' were rather genial after all.

* * *

><p>Both Ron and Hermione had provided her on some advice on how to scout about for information somewhere in her third year.<p>

Hermione's ingenius method was to classify the type of information under a certain category/subject, then from there, just pull out some books out related to it. Well, and Ron's outrageously stupid method was to randomnly choose two bookshelves and flip a knut.

_I guess the Weasleys just aren't library-people, _Ginny sighed. _I'll… um… better proceed with Hermione's way._

So, Harry's spell… What type might it be?

Ginny hit the Defence Against Dark Arts Section first, before proceeding to the Charms Section, and then growing more and more desperate, she flusteredly plopped herself in the _Divination section_ though it was simply _not possible_. _And Divination lesson basically consisted of Trelawney talking __**crap**__. How would that __**ever**__ come in useful?_

_Oooh, that was the snake in her talking. _She shuddered, and tiredly began prodding some random books which looked _nice_.

_I'm not going to get __**anywhere**__ like this, oh, Hermione, good thing you aren't watching me at the moment..._

Then, Hermione's _evil-world-domination look_ slammed into Ginny's head, hard. Hermione only appeared like that when… When…

"_I've been right through the Restricted Section! Rather useful, really!" Hermione's know-it-all voice echoed into her head._

THE RESTRICTION SECTION OF COURSE!

_That spell __**overran**__ time. It had to be somewhat powerful and dangerous, right?_

She was heading towards that section when the sound of conversation between two girls caught her attention. It was barely audible and muffled, but it was highly unusual for _anyone _to come to the library this _late_.

Besides, apparently the early Hogwarts attenders weren't library-people either, or what Ron had bluntly called _'nerds'_. There barely were any visitors to the library during her mulling-about-period, and even if there were, it was just a couple of quiet Ravenclaws, and occasionally a Hufflepuff.

_Honestly, how does Hermione survive here? It's more-than boring._

Ginny climbed to her feet with the help of a bookshelf and stretched to relinquish the pins and needles from her legs._ Ouch-oww, must be the darn book-disease taking effect. _

Then she pulled out her wand, and tapped her leg, and did it with s_tyle_, _yeahhh!_ "_Enervate_."

* * *

><p>As Ginny drew nearer the sounds, she began to recognize Olive's pleading voice. "Myrtle… I've told you already, I'm really sorry… I really didn't mean…"<p>

_Myrtle? No kidding. Moaning Myrtle?_

Ginny ran. She ran and ran and ran. If not for Olive's voice to indicate her, she'd probably have gotten lost in that _endless maze_ of books.

Ginny reached the Fantasy Section Shelf where she'd last left Olive, only to find Olive communicating in a defeated and remorseful tone to a… ghost.

_It had to be a ghost. I mean, what else was translucent, floated in air, and could talk?_

The ghost was of a teenage girl in a Hogwarts uniform. She was rather short and storky, with thick elbony glasses and dark brown hair - almost similar to that of Olive, but tied neatly into a ponytail. _Myrtle!_

The moment the ghost spotted Ginny running towards them, she vanished with a stricken look on her features.

"Olive!" Ginny called, replacing the space which once belonged to the ghost-girl. "Myrtle! Her! What, what's she doing here?"

"You… _know_ her?" Olive's reply was sluggish, slurred and weary.

But she didn't need Olive to confirm what she'd already knew. From her conversations with Myrtle in her era, Myrtle had been gleeful enough to share about her success in never letting Olive forget her death, and her vengeance was to stalk Olive around for eternity.

_But it wasn't all Olive's fault! And Olive wasn't even __**bad **__to begin with! Or maybe she had changed! But that wasn't the case!_

Ginny did some calculations, cross matching and sticking pieces of random information together.

Now all she needed was the last piece, even if it made her sound _stupid_ and _outdated._

"Olive," Ginny whispered calmly, putting her arms around the girl whose head was buried in her hands. "What… What's the year…?"

Olive must have thought her mad, but simply replied without a question, "ninety-three."

1943, of course.

Everything fell into place.

Remember what Dumbledore said? So earlier this year, the chamber of secrets had been opened by the sixteen-year-old Voldermort, and under his orders, Myrtle had been finished by his pet snake. _Then Voldermort was bored, so he went on to frame poor Hagrid._

_Oh, so this all boils down to that stupid creepy Riddle… It's him again, it's always him who starts every single trouble… And then pushes it to others, _Ginny interjected into her train of thoughts, concluding it all.

"Oooh, so _defending_ Obnoxious Olly now?" A high-pitched haunting voice rang out in her right ear.

Ginny spun to her right, coming face to face with Myrtle, only to realize the ghost had _sauntered_ right back.

"_Myrtle_," Ginny said, her voice shaking softly, but she felt that she had to put this across for the sake of Olive. "I think you should leave Olive alone… I think-"

The ghost sneered at Olive instead. "Ooh really? She's a horried teaser! I'd hidden in the girls toilet cubicle because Obnoxious Olly was there _teasing_ me about my glasses. That _Horrid_ girl! "

"Myrtle… Do tell me, what happened next?" Ginny questioned, curiosity suddenly getting the better of her. She'd heard this story quite many times from Myrtle, but still… Maybe she had more to share since her _death_ was rather_ fresh_.

The ghost blinked, then a joyful expression clouded her face, as though mirthful that someone was willing to listen.

_Never thought a ghost would take __**sadistic**__ joy in talking about her __**own**__ death…_

"Yes yes, I was crying, and then I heard someone come in. I was in the stalls, and then- there was a voice- a boy's voice, then hissing from the outside… I was _mad_, he hadn't asked my permission to enter _my favourite _toilet. Besides, it was a _girl'_s toilet. So I stomped on out and _screamed_ at him to go away-"

There were voices from the library door, and the ghost, out of panic, glanced around, and immediately disappeared from human (no, witch) vision, though Ginny had the feeling she was still lurking around _prying_.

Olive jerked upwards, "It's past curfew…"

Neither Ginny, nor Olive, _was_ lucky enough to be a ghost in these sort of situations. _Time to save ourselves._

She grasped Olive's hands and pulled her down behind the nearest bookshelf. "Alright Olive, um, are you okay?"

Olive smiled, and Ginny noticed that she looked pretty much like the _Panda _with those_ really_ big eyebags. "I'm alright, really, I do feel fine…"

The voices from the door did remind Ginny her _sole_ aim for coming to the library in the first place. Just_ so_ like her to get carried away. The library clock showed it to be around midnight, and she wanted to make some progress today by maybe, like, at least identifying the book.

"You should go on to bed now," Ginny whispered to Olive. "I need to do something _important._"

The voices began to fade, and both Olive, Ginny and… _Myrtle _heaved a sigh of relief – well, if a ghost could.

"Then I'll… go with you," Olive's voice sounded very unlike her, rather firm in a sense.

_It was probably her way of thanking me for __**defending**__ her I guess… Must be Slytherin's way of repaying each other. They probably don't understand what friends are for._

"No. If someone catches us…-"

"I'll… Go with you."

"Olive! I'm going to the _Restriction Section_! You should know better _not_- to go in there."

Olive paled, and Myrtle just looked downright gleeful once more, "_Ooooh!_ _Interesting!_ I might just stalk along! Being dead ain't interesting at all!"

Olive ignored Myrtle, tried to live down her _dinner_ and her _fear_, nodded her head tautly, and emphasized, "**Let's go**."

* * *

><p><em>Breaking two school rules before my first day! Amazing, I beat Harry's record already.<em>

The Restricted Section was the **darkest** section in the library – as in, literally.

Olive casted a "Alohomora" spell on the locked door, causing it to unbolt itself with a click. Ginny surveyed the _kiddy-side_ of the library behind her once more, before pushing the glass door opened gingerly and whispering, _"Lumos",_ with Olive following suit. And as for Myrtle, she had it easy. She just _floated right in_, _**singing**_.

"Myrtle, do quiet down!" Ginny snapped, adjusting to the dim glowing light of their wands, sweeping her eyes down the aisles and aisles of thick and intimidating books, some chained to the rack, others looking rather _dangerously_ normal.

_You can't trust a book much more than a Slytherin. _Ginny cautioned herself, shamefully aware that her _live_ companion was a Slytherin.

Ginny spent some time sweeping down the rows of books, relying on the words on its binder to outline its usefulness. _She dared not pull them out in case one flew at her._

Then she found one that particularly caught her attention. _**Dark Arts:**_ _**Prohibited Time Spells and Memory Charms**_.

It was chained by an unnervingly thick chain to the rack. And as she drew the light at the tip of her wand nearer to it, she realized the chain was _shiny_. Shiny meant many spells (_more than one_) had been put into place to encore it to where it was. Shiny meant _dange_r.

_Take a chance Ginny. The sorting hat said you're __**distrusting**__. Nope, show em' that you're a** true** and **brave **__**GRIFFINDOR**__! _

She pulled the bulky book off the shelf, yelping, releasing it, and letting it dangle from the chain. _Nothing_ happened.

Ginny inched forward and read its summary at the back of its book.

"_**Spells related to Time Travel and Restoration of Memories. Banned by the Ministry of Magic. Meddling with-**_"

Ginny gradually became aware that Myrtle's _long snuffling nose_ was peering over her shoulders and Olive, from the side.

"Oh naughty naughty, _**Dark Arts**? **Prohibited** Time Spells and Restoration of Memories? _Isn't someone trying to be naughty?" Myrtle giggled with a high pitch laughter.

As for Olive, she looked spooked. She had held-in all suspicion ever since stepping into the library, but she could barely take it anymore. "Ginny- What, what exactly are you looking for?"

"I'm not dabbling in Dark Arts, I swear Olive!" Ginny engrossed with the strange mahogany coloured book. Gently, she twisted the book over, careful not to break the chains.

There was hesitation, and a certain mistrust in Olive's voice. "Okay, but make it quick."

"What I need to do now is to remove the binds of the book."

"What? The chain is an inch thick! Goodness knows what it'll do! But… if you must… Then…"

Myrtle giggled again gleefully. "When you're _dead_, you're_ free_ to join me!"

Ginny shot a poisonous glare at Myrtle. The prospect of _dying_ because of a darn book wasn't comforting. _Books suck._

"Are you guys ready? Ginny questioned. "Wands trained Olive. As for you _Myrtle_, don't _sing_ or _giggle_. Here goes nothing."

Ginny unwrapped the binds of the book slowly.

_Nothing_ happened.

_Is it **just** me or does the book looks like its** yawning**?_

Well, nothing happened for one second. And the next, was an _awful_ lot of struggling.

The gigantic- book-monster plunged at them with crazed fiery, its _mouth_ – a simple arch made from the pages of the book, wide open. It would have gorged out Ginny's arm out, if not for the chain which anchored it firmly into place. Then it went into thrashing mode, its grosteque mouth opening and closing violently, shaking the entire bookshelf left and right, left and right.

It seemed that either the shelves would come crumbling down first, or the chain might just severe first from its impact.

Myrtle vanished. _What loyalty._

_Thank Merlin Olive had been wise enough not to scream, just a couple of muffled squeals._

"_**Wingardium Leviosa**!" _Ginny's spell came out in between a squeal of terror and a leveled calmness. The monster-book was levitated in mid-air, still throwing its mouth open recklessly, but no longer shaking the bookshelves or straining its chain.

_Thanks to moi the awesome._

Olive heaved a sigh of relief and plastered herself against the wall, closing her eyes and forcing herself to take deep breaths…

And, Myrtle _reappeared_ again. _Reeeeal-ly?_ After the threat was pretty much over? Myrtle's eyes were wide-eyed and _large_ with shock, even for a ghost. "Anything I can… errr.. do as a ghost?"

_In times of crisis, _Ginny realised, _Myrtle seemed rather meek._

"Go on out and keep watch for us," Ginny panted.

Myrtle surprisingly did as she was told, probably to get as far away as from the book as possible.

Ginny turned her thoughts back on the flapping book.

"I can't read anything like this," Ginny brought the struggling-gobbling-book-monster nearer to herself for closer inspection. "Need to break the chain, and pin it to a table or something… Oh, **_bloody hell_**, it has_ teeth_!"

"What?" Olive's eyes flew open, only hearing the first sentence. "Break the chain? Ginny, that's just… that's just_ insane_! We nearly, nearly- died even with the chain _on_!"

Myrtle _reappeared_ once more before Ginny could reply, and Ginny began to get annoyed at her constant unnecessary in and out appearances. But the haunted look in her eye caused a painful fluttering in Ginny's stomach. "He's here… He-"

"Who?" Olive cut her off in a flurry.

Myrtle didn't even argue, or taunt Olive in that sense.

"That… that Riddle boy…"

Out of intense shock, the charm broke, and the book lunged at Ginny, Olive, and right _through _Myrtle.

_Now we're trapped between a gigantic-monster-book and the Dark Lord himself..._

_So dead._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yawwwnnn, I'm tiredd... I shall go and take an afternoon nap now... :D**


	5. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER**

**Summary: Heehee, its a mystery story right? If i tell you it won't be funnnnnneeee!**

**PAIRING: GinxTom**

**Previously...**

_Now we're trapped between a gigantic-monster-book and the Dark Lord himself..._

_So dead._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4-Mysterious Mysteries<strong>

Riddle _really_ hadn't expected either Fridwarn _or _Hornby or _both_ to _greet_ him in the Restricted Section.

After all that preparation, this minor _glitch_ had to occur? He had specifically ordered Dimitri Lestrange to _ensure_ that the library was unoccupied at this time, which included Madam Zelda's absence of course. Then, out of care, he had sought out Abraxas Malfoy and Alphard Black, one to stand guard outside the library, and the other, outside the Restricted Section.

And this had to happen.

That new _meddling transfer_ and her _little pet ferret_, Hornby, seemed to be interfering with his plans – and not coincidentally. From the dark glare Fridwarn had given him over the dinner table, to how she had _stationed_ herself at the restriction section past curfew hour, _and _perfectly timed it at midnight. She obviously knew something – or guessed his plans, and that pretty much shook him up _horribly_.

Hiding his inner turmoil, Riddle drew closer to them composedly, wand poised, and voice leveled, "_Forcing_ me to deduct points from _Slytherin_, are you? _A pity_. It's your first day _Fridwarn_, and as for _you_ Hornby, I'd honestly thought yourself to be more _discerning_."

"Really, _Riddle_?" It was the Fridwarn girl who spoke – in a cool and deadly manner. "Care to speak for _yourself_?"

"Since you _insist_ to know, Fridwarn, Professor Slughorn has granted me _full_ consent to further my research on _Polyjuice Potion_. An interesting subject indeed. And as for _my - _lurking beyond _Curfew hours_, the _Slug Club's_ meeting ended _particularly_ late tonight – and all members have been _spared _the Curfew – it, has been pushed back _exactly_ **four** hours." A witty and smooth _lie_ – good thing none of them were part of the Slug Club.

Riddle appraised himself (something that was rarely done) secretly for the well-weaved _lie_.

Well, the truth was: He was here solely for the information on _**Memory Horcruxes**_.

But as he advanced within inches from them, he realized the two girls were _pinning_ a thrashing book down beneath them. Apparently, they had broken its chain, and the book had bitten them a couple of times in which they did _deserve_.

It would have been comical indeed, but Riddle's attention was more focused on the type of book in which they had daringly proceeded to read.

_**Dark Arts: Prohibited Time Spells and Memory Charms.**_

Riddle would have been surprised at the type of Dark Arts they had been studying, but sheer horror overcame in.

He couldn't let them gain the _guardian of that book's_ trust. Oh no. He was dead if they did.

* * *

><p>Ginny swore she spotted a flicker of stricken-terror on Riddle's face, before it slipped into that mask of composure once again.<p>

Well it was not her fault that the book was _biting_ their butts. For Olive, in a state of horror on Riddle's arrival, had shot a couple of crazed spells aimed at the book, but missed, and bullseye! It had so nicely broken its chain, leaving the both of them to pin it down with all they got. As for Myrtle, she had _never_ been here. _Sure_.

It hurt _terribly_ - _If Riddle is not gentleman enough to notice. _Do something! _There are damsels in distress over here!_

Deep and painful scratches and gashes had been forming over her arms, her bottom, and over at her shin. _Olive must be suffering too. _But the stupid gigantic monster book was thrashing too violently for them to put its binders back on.

Ginny got a grip of her wand, preparing to cast a-

"At the count of three, both of you, _release_ the book," Riddle commanded, finally snapping out of his stony contemplation.

"Wha-?" Ginny blurted, _release the book?_ If it didn't kill them first, it might go after Riddle himself. _Yea, that'll be great. _Ginny imagined telling the Ministry of Magic that 'Tom Riddle got killed by a giant book in the Restricted Section! I can justify that!' _Well, it won't go too well…_

_3_

_2_

_1_

"_Release _the book. _Now._"

Ginny decided to follow the command at the last minute – but well, with a bit of her own spell. Olive had already taken the time to scoot off far to the opposite side of the Section.

She caught the book in mid-air, freezing it approximately two inches away from her, and slightly above her head. And… she caught sight of a head embedded in the book – an elderly man's head, glaring out not at her, _but for some reason_, at _Riddle_. _Curious._

_Blo-ody hell! There are inhabitants in the book?_

Riddle simply accepted her stubbornness, and straightened his yew wand at the book, causing it to clasp together obediently and jump back into the shelf. He then went on to complete his _pretty little combo_ by re-fixing the chain and anchoring it firmly back to the shelf.

_Errr… Thank you? That snake definitely has an ulterior motive. _Though, Ginny thought, it'll be pretty mean not to acknowledge he _did_ help us somewhat.

"Thank… you," Olive piped up before Ginny could even voice her thanks. "Err… You're going to pun… punish us, aren't you?" Olive stammered on.

Riddle simply turned to face them, his face completely bare of emotion, slipping his wand into his pocket deftly. "I'd advise you to _think thrice _before you tread in here again."

_He simply stating that he doesn't want us to come here again for __**a certain reason**__! _Ginny realized. _But no, I need to read that book somehow. __**I am certain it has information**__._

* * *

><p>Completely expected, Ginny and Olive had to skip breakfast the next day, and make a straight rush in hope to make it on time for their <em>Potion Class<em>. Myrtle had tried to _apologize_ for _ditching her_ during that period of mad frenzy, but after a couple of _harsh_ words, was only sent by Ginny _moaning_ all the way to the toilet.

"Professor Slughorn," Ginny had said. "Sorry, we're late.", and had been admitted in, along with Olive without much further complaints from him.

In fact, Professor Slughorn, even in his younger days of teaching, was a jolly man with a pot-bellied stomach, merrily dressed in a tattered brown cloak. He didn't seem to mind one bit about the lateness, _possibly because Olive and I aren't one of his precious Slug Club students._

Though Ginny was new, you had to be blind not to notice the obvious deep rooted and mutual hate between the two houses: Gryffindor and Slytherin. There seemed to be a tall, tensed and invisible barrier dividing the class into half.

The Slytherin-side of the class was all well taken-up, by mainly _Riddle_ and his _dumb minions_. Ignoring Riddle's – and the rest of the class's, rather _interested_ and intense watching gaze, she happily opted to sit in one of the Griffyndor seats, hauling the reluctant Olive along, _possibly breaking their stupid tradition for ages._

"Can anyone describe a _Boomslang_ to me?" Slughorn asked jovially, eagerly pacing up and down the tensed barrier between the Gryffindor and Slytherin border, completely unaware.

Many hands shot up, including Ginnys. It was a rather easy question after all.

A girl with a cute heart-shaped face and blond plaits was called upon – a Gryffindor. "Quite small in size and very venomous, though its venom is slow to act. The skin of a male is mostly green, and a female- notably brown in colour. Their diet consist of small reptiles and amphibians… Though sometimes they do feed on mammals. Yes, that's it."

_Woah, smart man! I admit I wouldn't have sprouted so much._

"That's right!" Slughorn threw his hands up with mock delight. "Five points to Gryffindor. Now a much harder one – related to the mention of _Boomslang_, any idea what potion we might be brewing today?"

_Boomslang! Hermione had mentioned it more than once that it was an ingredient notably used in __**Polyjuice**__!_ And she had even helped the Order of the Phoenix in brewing the _Polyjuice Potion_! How could she not know?

Her hand, along with _Riddle-the-nerd_ from across the 'barrier', were the _only_ two that shot up at this complicated question.

Slughorn for that matter, had already positioned himself facing his most doted on and outstanding student, _Riddle_. And he was about to call on him when in pleasant surprise, spotted the new transfer student's hand up high.

Slughorn twisted his neck around. "Oh Fridwarn! Okay then, both of you _are_ from Slytherin after all, so it doesn't really matter – give the new girl a chance! So…?"

"_Polyjuice Potion_." Ginny was aware that her the word came out soft and in a little whisper – though Slughorn seemed to hear it perfectly. (For polyjuice after all, was the indirect reason in which her brother had lost his ear.)

"_Brilliant!_ Ten points to Slytherin!" He said joyously, and Ginny realized with a pang of guilt that she had just earned ten points for Slytherin. _But whining for the points to be taken back would seem kind of weird…_

Olive grinned and clapped her on the back. "_Smart pig_. Maybe the library _is_ kinda _cool_." Ginny just shrugged modestly and smirked at Olive knowingly.

Slughorn then went on to caution the students on how highly complex the brewing of this potion was. "It may not turn out well, but…-" he had pointed out, "it's a good gauge to see where your potion skills stand!" Ginny barely listened as he _explained the instructions step by step_, _**cautioned them once more**_, _explained again_, _**cautioned them**_, _explained once more_, and then finally said, "You may begin, individual work please. Take a hair from yourself mind you, I don't wish to see anyone pulling anyone else's hair! Don't drink it! I'll come around and check on you."

_Yeah, and Hemione brewed it when she was in second year. _Ginny yawned, before standing up to collect all the items.

* * *

><p>Riddle on the other hand, had comprehended enough of the situation to realize that it was <em>not<em> to his advantage. He had indeed read up quite enough on _Polyjuice potion_ to know that the colour in which the Potion turns out as _reacts according to the nature of the person to be imitated. _Riddle had heartlessly _murdered_ a girl earlier this year, and was not so eager to let Slughorn or his peers inspect the colour of _his_ potion.

But as usual, a devious idea struck him very quickly, and he immediately carried it out without hesitation.

* * *

><p>Ginny was the first to finish brewing her potion of course, hers turning a beautiful shimmering sliver in colour, which portrayed that, to her relief, that she was still - in one way or another, a pretty good person inside.<p>

Realizing that Olive was struggling with the first stage of its brewing process, Ginny clambered over to help, but Slughorn stepped _right into her path_, and held up her cauldron joyously _as though it was some sort of trophy_.

"Beautiful! Wonderfully made! A true Master Potioneer! Shining silver! A kind person, aren't you?" Ginny watched as he glanced quickly over at his favourite pupil, Riddle, who was still calmly in the process of adding his final ingredient into his brass like cauldron. Glancing back, Slughorn studied Ginny with his head tilted to one side, "Very fast. Very _very _fast and _accurate!_"

Then, slyly shifting his eyes about the class, he slipped a little something into Ginny's hand. _It feels like a note – but rather leathery._

As though nothing had happened, Slughorn quickly moved over to Olive's side and said, "Need to hurry up a bit, Miss Hornby! Time's running short!", causing Olive, (who fumbled alot in shock), to spill a bit of the contents on Slughorn's cloak.

Ginny turned her attention back to the leathery note at hand. She looked up, surveyed her surroundings, then content that not an eye was on her, she read it softly to herself.

"**Welcome to the Slug Club, where gifted Potioneers come to meet! Every Tuesday night, after dinner, at eight–"**

She hadn't finished reading it, when the note simply just disintegrated in her hands. Slughorn probably hexed the note to maintain the secrecy of his favourite club. _That_ made sense- but if she hadn't read the venue of it, there was just _no_ way she could attend it, right?

_Uh oh- wasn't it the Club which Riddle had mentioned? –Damn, he __**was**__ from it!_

Ginny looked up, and glared at Riddle who was _robotically_ dropping a tiny strand of hair into his cauldron. Ginny began to fight the urge to have a look at the _colour_ of the Dark Lord's potion – to see what kind of person he was on the inside. It would be interesting after all… _I mean, of course it would be pitch black, but what if it wasn't?_

She stood up, and began '_clearing'_ her items, picking up the two remaining scruples of fluxweed and heading towards 'Slughorn's potion table' in order to put the _extras bac_k. Good thing that Riddle, who was sitting pretty nearby, wasn't even_ half-aware_ yet.

She tried, most inconspicuously to take a_ teeny weeny_ little peak at his Polyjuice Colour…

"Sticking your long nose in like that," Riddle's cool and cold gaze flickered to her in somewhat amusement. "In fact, I did expect you to."

Ginny froze, and began to muster some courage. _She had no reason to think him bad, no reason to think him bad, no reason to think him bad, NO REASON TO THINK HIM BAD…_

Ginny wondered if she should just start acting all lovesick like those admiring girls who were flocking around him, waiting eagerly for his potion's transformation. It would be a simple way out. But, she couldn't imagine herself sprouting such a disgustingly-gross lie.

"_Interesting colour_," Ginny managed. "_White_?" She couldn't stop the question mark interjecting itself at the end of the sentence.

White? Ginny nearly puked at the irony of it. _White? _There was simply no way that his potion was White! Out of all the colours, _white_ stood for _purity_.

She watched wide-mouthed as his 'supporters' began to 'wow' over his 'white' transformation. _He did something to his potion! How could it be white? But he did drop a strand of hair into his potion earlier… Unless…_

"And yours?" He asked, and Ginny with terror, swore she detected a slight tone of interest in his voice.

She saw no peril in giving away the colour of hers. "Silver," she answered, still in deep thought, before hurrying off before he could bombard her with any more.

* * *

><p>Riddle, watching her closely, was rather shocked with her reply, but didn't go to the extent of questioning her further. <em>So inside<em>, Riddle deduced with some uncertainty, _she was actually a good person_? Not many Slytherins' turned Silver after all.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Errr, not many reviews! But really really really really thanks to those who reviewed! **


	6. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ERR THESE CHARACTERS!**

**Pairing: GinxTom **

**Summary: Go figure! heehee:D **

**WARNING: This is a _Mystery_ story, so many things that happen or information I provide, try not to miss! Most will surface in the latter half of the story! **

**A/N: Sorry I forgot to write all the stuff on top cos my dad screamed at me for not eating my lunch properly and made me shut down the com at once... So I just UPDATED Oh yes, and my titles always are pretty lame...**

**Previously...**

_Riddle, watching her closely, was rather shocked with her reply, but didn't go to the extent of questioning her further. So inside, Riddle deduced with some uncertainty, she was actually a good person? Not many Slytherins' turned Silver after all._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5-adapting and rescuing<strong>

From her official first day of lessons, Ginny learnt a couple of important things:

Firstly, NEVER to fall asleep during Herbology. Bad timing. Professor Beery, while explaining the properties of _mooncalf dung_, had furiously caught Ginny fast asleep, and had lectured the class for around two hours or so on the importance of _mooncalf dung, _and eventually, had moved on to _dung_ as well. Later on, Ginny had to undergo intense '_glaring session_' from both the Gryffindors _and_ Slytherins who seemed to have _set their mind_ on a common decision for once, which was to hex Ginny out of her very skin – and _even_ Olive seemed rather flustered over it. Riddle on the other side of the class, had instead been seen in a pretty good mood, _wide-awake_, and smirking away and Ginny's plight. She concluded that he _wasn'_t the type who needed much sleep to function.

Secondly, _all _detentions took place in the _Forbidden Forest_, which at this era, was called the Ember Forest for a rather strange reason. A whole lot of students had gotten into a most _fiercesome brawl_ over the Ravenclaw and Slytherin point system during Charms, and every single one had been sent off to the _Ember Forest _without hesitation. Ginny _wouldn't_ jump at that _opportunity_.

Lastly, Ginny realized that Slytherin seemed to have a brewing _feud_ with all the houses – which she had expected. _Best to keep her head low_. It was due to the fact that Slytherins _weren't _the most genial people around – and that was nicely putting it. The _more-true_ way to say it was that Slytherins were just complete _stuck-up-gits._

* * *

><p>Ginny spent the rest of the week adapting to the 1943 Hogwarts daily routine, and trying to settle down. Olive contributed a lot to that, always explaining the clockworks of the school, occasionally the 'popularity fed' and rarely the 'famous' kids around (which included Riddle from Slytherin, Malfoy from Slytherin, Sestenal from Gryffindor, and many others – though there were few from Hufflepuff).<p>

It was also about this time that Ginny began to feel comfortable enough to contemplate Voldermort's death. She had thought through it a couple of times, and it made complete sense of stamping him out in his early stages. However, she was reluctant to risk the chances of getting sent of the _Azkaban_ for that - and was pretty sure that if she ever did, her chances of returning to the future would be _completely_ severed. She sounded creepy concluding this way: But she needed a concrete plan of killing him without being found out.

Ginny, to her own surprise, even went to the extent of opening up her social circle a bit and mixing about with the other _totally_ obnoxious Slytherin girls her age. Olive, on the other hand, chose to refrain from that, stating sharply that '_she rather befriend some trolls' _(Which Ginny readily agreed with).

Though, Ginny had to admit, it really wasn't hard to get accepted by those girls. The conversation, she recalled, went something along these lines:

"Hi."

"Oh, you're the transfer! Jinnervo Molly Frid-er…wane was it? _So_, are _you_ a pureblood?"

"Yes."

Claps her hand in delight. "Wonderful! Welcome to the _Circle_. Though I haven't heard of a Frid-wane before."

"In Southern France, in Beauxbatons, it _is _– _very_ well known there in fact. One of the most _ancient and powerful_ wizarding families there." Ginny would lie the same lie over again through her teeth, aware that she sounded like a _Total-Slytherin-Idiot_.

_Necessary to keep a low profile. I really don't wish to be hexed around or labeled as the 'mudblood'. I'll need the privacy for research purposes._

And with that, Ginny would be hauled in to join an _interesting_ gossip session on either _boys_, or _mudbloods_. Both were an equally _hot_ topic amongst the Slytherin girls.

However, now and then, the smarter ones would point out warily, "You don't sound very _French _to me."

And Ginny would simply overcome that one with a, "Moved here quite a while and pretty much adapted to Britain before I actually enrolled here."

She threaded with her words carefully, making sure that she didn't _contradict _herself at some point or describe something completely _out of the world_.

_Wow, I'm a great liar! _Ginny thought distastefully – another trait of Slytherins.

The days flew by and POOF, like magic, she just sifted into place in Slytherin, but remained guardedly on the look-out, watching her back for common backstabs.

* * *

><p>And since she was going to have to <em>live<em> with _Myrtle-the-ghost_ for _dunno-how-long_, Ginny decided that it was only smart to apologise to her for her harsh words earlier that week. She had waited painfully long for a chance to apologize – probably during Myrtle's daily '_Olive haunting'_, but surprisingly, Myrtle hadn't appeared a single time to her or Olive so far.

Olive didn't seem disturbed one bit. In fact, she appeared less tired and timid for the first time in her life – which cheered Ginny up a lot.

Myrtle, apparently, must still be brooding over Ginny's words. Ginny felt she was overreacting (which was her _specialization_), but decided not to criticize the _poor dead girl _for something so _trivial_ like that for she pitied Myrtle after all. She did suppose Myrtles depression stemmed from her violent death by a _Riddle's icky pet_.

_Stupid Riddle Boy._

It was during lunch on the fifth day of school in which Ginny could barely hold in her worries anymore.

"Olive," Ginny said. "Isn't it strange that Myrtle _hardly ever_ appears these days?" _Or haunts you around, which is her favourite leisurely sport?_

Olive bit into the scrumptious dessert treacle, her voice all muffled in the large amount of food in her small mouth, "I dun mird. Wfy?"

"Huh?"

"I said-" Olive chewed down the chocolate treacle, its chocolate remnants still clustered about her mouth. "I don't really mind. I mean, it's advantageous to me, right? At least I don't get constantly awakened at night, or eerily reminded from time to time of my-" She wiped her mouth and coughed gently, before side-glancing Ginny wryly. "Of my _past self_ - that is. Anyway, why?"

_I shan't pry. She doesn't seem very willing to speak about it, _Ginny noticed.

"I might drop by her favourite toilet and say hi," Ginny joked. "And apologise for earlier this week, you know…?"

Olive nodded, and leaned in. "I honestly don't know what Myrtle_ does_ normally – it must be boring to be a ghost, but, if you really want to apologise, I'll tell you a bit of what I know." Olive looked around her shiftily, before whispering, "Myrtle once let slip to me she specially visits the Prefects Bathroom after dinner to around half past ten to… Well, she _takes pride_ in _overlooking_ the _male_-prefects bath time. Not that _they know_ she's there- She even has memorized the names of those she's looking out for." Olive smirked at this. "It's um... restricted to Prefects, the Heads, and Quidditch Captains… So I really don't know how you're going to get in there."

Ginny grinned. _Now that's the good old Myrtle. Always knew she had this sort of gross-pervert Agenda._

She had set her mind on sneaking into the Prefects Bathroom sometime soon, when Olive called out to her, breaking her train of thoughts.

"Don't bloat yourself up too much, we're having **flying lessons **soon."

* * *

><p>Riddle never particular savored the idea of flying, worse still, on a piece of <em>thin<em> stick in which his _mother_ had used to sweep the floor with. Malfoy seemed perfectly fine with that, and even his body structure, from head to toe, was just inclined for flight. And, Riddle, noticed with a critical eye, that that _Fridwarn girl_ was just as, or more talented with her broomstick as well.

What _bugged_ Riddle was mainly the _Fridwarn girl_. Needless to say, he had millions of other worries on his mind of course. But the fact that she somehow or another seemed to draw his attention every moment she entered into vicinity - was simply disturbing. _Probably her fire-red hair_, he accused, knowing that it was just plain _false_.

Although, even Riddle had to admit _very reluctantly_, she did have a rather interesting personality. Dark and guarded, but yet she seemed completely open to Hornby. Well-

"Okay, okay! Class! Listen here! The whole class _must_ fly! It's for exercise so move up your lazy bums! So like before, we will be playing a little twigged version of Quidditch. How many of you here?" The flying instructor vomited all that out at one go – always making Riddle wonder how she managed to spit so many words out in three seconds. Quite similar to Dippet, just that Dippet interjected much less humour and spoke torturously slowly.

"Oh nevermind about the number! Gryffindors one team, Slytherins one team!" She pushed through the crowd of confused kids, trying to group them into the Seekers, the Beaters, the Chasers, the Keepers – each component containing extra players, so that _'everyone could enjoy the great fun'_.

Riddle unfortunately was standing to her left, and got indifferently pushed aside as a _Beater_.

What terrible luck! It would be a disgrace if the Bludgers were to overturn his broom in midflight! Besides, sticking his neck up for a childish game like this- was pretty stupid.

Furthermore, his followers may lose a tinge of respect for him through this – in which he _could not_ afford to lose!

He decided to put his charming skills to good use.

* * *

><p><em>Flying lessons!<em> Ginny had whooped with joy at that. _I thought it was only taught to first years!_

Apparently, according to Olive, it was Dippet's form of a compulsory exercise to all students. _So Dippet __**does**__ have a brain which he refuses to use! YIPPEEE! Thank Dippet!_

The flying instructor deliberately set her aside as 'seeker', along with Olive who happened to be standing next to her during 'sorting'. _Not bad huh? Seekers cool!_

"You guys are the seekers?" Abraxas Malfoy approached them, broom held up like some sort of Quidditch professional. "You must _catch_ the snitch before that _Potter_ gets it. _Try _your best. He's Gryffindor's seeker… A pretty efficient seeker, and I'm sure he bribed Madam Piffery or something into giving him that seeker place in this match."

_Potter?_ But Ginny brushed the feeling off, replying, "I can already beat Harr- I mean, um... I'm way better than _Potter _I assure you." Ginny even applied a tinge of bitterness- easily aroused by her already torn emotions- when emphasizing the_ Potter_ name to cover up her little slip.

Well, that seemed to do it.

Malfoy half-grinned, half sneered at that. "I _really_ like your attitude,_ little_ girl. Anyway…" -_That sexist bastard_- He faced the rest of the guy Seekers, "I'll strike a deal with any seeker who beats _Potter_ to the snitch. You get right into the team – well of course, as a seeker. Slytherin seems to have a shortage of _capable_ seekers, you see, unlike _the one_ on our team at the moment." He said the last sentence rather insensitively, not bothering to lower his voice one bit.

"Honestly?" Ginny asked, trying to contradict him for the sake of doing so, "Don't you have to ask the cap-"

"Moi here the-Great, is the captain!" He said cockily, grinning like an excited kid who just received a nimbus 2000 for his birthday, before hoping onto his branded broom and zooming off.

_Oh, I'll show him! _Ginny thought inwardly, hopping onto her broom and taking off deftly after him, feeling freedom – with all her worries cast aside, in which she had been deprived off for a long time.

The Quidditch instructor proceeded to release all four balls from the central circle, before throwing up the Quaffle into the air, signifying the start of the game.

Ginny hardly took note of anything, well, except for the snitch. It wasn't in sight anywhere! Olive had given up long ago, levitating at a safe spot in the field to enjoy the match.

Defeatedly, she had joined Olive for a few moments, commenting randomnly on the game – and on Riddle.

"Riddle isn't playing," Olive pointed out the miniature tall boy sitting _'obediently'_ at the bench side studying something. "He hasn't ever- I do wonder what his reason is- Madam Piffery seems to think it fine of him to sit out so it must be quite of concern- wait… HOLY MERLIN! Ginny! that GRYFIINDOR SEEKER IS DIVING FOR THE SNITCH! C'MON!"

Ginny didn't manage to get much laughter out of the mental image of the Dark Lord queasy on a broomstick, before she was forced to dive a ninety degree plummet after the sneaky snitch which shot off teasingly.

A few other 'seekers' joined in the chase from behind, though they didn't seem very good, and Ginny wondered how long the game might last if no one were to lay hands on the snitch.

_It's up to Ginny-the-Great, _she smirked, and followed it in hot pursuit. After all- not to show off, but she did have quite a proficient degree of control over the broom. She always did, really. Charlie had brought her dragon riding occasionally – and if she could stay on a dragon, certainly, she could stay on a simple piece of stick!

Then the naughty golden snitch began to spiral _upwards, upwards, upwards, upwards_, and _upwards _at an alarming speed, practically throwing every single Seeker off its trail except…

Ginny and a dark haired boy with glasses- who looked unnervingly like Harry Potter, but whose height was similar to that of Riddles.

_Well, diving __**ninety**__ degrees downwards is exhilarating. But 'diving' ninety degrees upwards is just plain __**freaky**__. _Ginny felt that her butt might slip off any moment,

_No Ginny. Don't give up. Not now. Remember that night… _She felt weightless, and everything seemed to have disappeared from sight, except the golden snitch…

_Remember the night in where you were on a broom… And crazy men with black costumes were haphazardly shooting spells all over… And you survived. You dodged them all and survived._

The golden snitch was in front of her now… She reached out, and grabbed it... GRABBED IT! Victory in its purest form surged through her. And her fiery adrenalin within her calmed...

The poor broom which could no longer take the great pressure any longer, slipped down, causing Ginny to fall backwards (NINETY DEGREES) along with it, slamming into her Seeker Competitor behind her.

Being as talented as he was in flight, he would have regained control quickly if his broom were in a proper position, or if he hadn't been accelerating ninety degrees upwards. Hence, he was sent spiraling down at top speed, his broom flying off course.

Ginny gasped in shock, regaining a little control of her own broom, before she proceeded to dive after him. _Oh no, did I just unintentionally murder someone because of a stupid snitch?_

"Get Onto My Broom!" The words sounded staccato and broken down due to the razor sharp wind tearing at her words.

But he got the message anyway, and probably would have even if she hadn't mentioned it. As soon as her broom neared him, the boy grasped onto hers desperately…

And just a split second before they hit the ground, he managed to heft himself safely onto her broom.

_Life saved, _Ginny heaved a sigh of relief, the forgotten snitch tumbling dejectedly off the ground. She tried to heave herself off her broom, to find that her legs were too jellylike to support her body weight and that she was pretty much stuck in that position.

_No… I'm going to have to build my new home at the hospital wing again…_

The students all had alighted from their brooms at the speed of lightning, and rushed towards them in horror and curiosity. Even Riddle, usually uninterested in _any_ sort of matter except his own, had bothered to shift himself over to see the outcome.

"Are they alright?"

"She saved Aron!"

"Merlin's Beard! Isn't that Potter looking dead?"

"She caught the snitch!"

Madam Piffery quickly parted the crowd, and said, in her usual fast pace. "Everyone part! Part! PART! Dear, dear! What a terrible catastrophe has occurred today! Seems like Mr Potter is unconscious- And Ms Fridwarn? Are you feeling okay?"

"No," Ginny replied honestly, feeling her teeth involuntarily chattering with trauma. "I… I can't stand…"

Madam Piffery, hurried over, whipped out her wand, and tapped it lightly over Ginny's leg, causing it momentarily to turn to outright pain, before dissolving to numbness once more…

"There, there. That will do for now. At least you can stand a bit, can't you? I'll carry Mr Potter to the Wing." Madam Piffery scanned the onlookers and spotted Riddle, who was ultimately doing nothing during her lesson – unless you called sitting out something. "Mr Riddle, would you do me a favour of helping Ms Fridwarn to the ward?" She didn't even wait for his reply before turning to her two most trusty and experienced Quidditch-captain students, one from each house to be fair. "Mr Sestenal and Mr Malfoy, would you so kindly initiate the next game? I couldn't have this group standing around and doing nothing."

And with those few lines, she hefted the limp Potter off the broom with surprisingly little effort, before bustling him off shortly. The crowd around her began to disperse, the Gryffindors appraising Ginny for her heroic act, the Slytherins praising Ginny for snagging the snitch, and others offering to help Ginny to her feet. Ginny let Olive have the honour of doing so instead.

Olive raised her little timid voice and attempted-to-shout to Malfoy from across the field. "I… er... Want to accompany Ginny to… to the hospital wing!"

Malfoy barely acknowledged her before instantly turning to Sestenal and yelling, "We have one player on our team off-ground! Get one of your stinking dopes to sit out!"

Sestenal, whose personality seemed similar to that of Riddle's, said unfazed, "Madam Piffery requested for Riddle to help Fridwarn there. It's your business if your player refuses to heed her word."

"You stupid stinking stuck up git!" Malfoy shrieked. "Can't even spell your Moma's-"

"Err… Riddle," Olive said shyly, flushing openly, "Can you err… Take my… um… place in the match?" And Ginny was perfectly grateful for that.

Riddle seemed to pale over for a couple of seconds, glaring at Malfoy for some reason, before as usual, regaining composure. Eventually, he seemed to consider the cons on both sides, before deciding that Quidditch was the worst sort of spot _ever_ invented, and didn't fancy his chances of being knocked off his broom in front of his peers.

"No," Riddle replied flatly. "Go on and _enjoy_ the match. I'll do it."

_Olive don't leave me alone with the dark lord! _Ginny's mind screamed. But no such luck. Olive cast one last concerned glance over at Ginny, lowered her head at Riddle, before running off towards the match, before Malfoy swallowed down Sestenal's head or something.

Awkward. _Scary._ Ginny watched as Riddle's dark eyes studied her from head to toe, and then scanned _through_ her once more.

"You _can_ stand," he blatantly pointed out. "So I assume you _can_ walk."

"Yes, yes I can walk, so scoot," Ginny quickly replied, knowing without even trying that the _most_ she could do was probably limp. She wasn't particularly cheered up by the Dark Lord _carrying her,_ or following her into a deserted corridor before shooting a killing curse at her when no one in sight.

He looked more amused instead of angry, lifting his slender eyebrow slightly. "Very well. Go on. _Walk_."

"I _can_ walk. So scoot."

"_Walk_," Riddle commanded, this time un-amused, his patience seeming to thin out. _Oh really, commanding me to walk, are you?_

"Go. Away. What do you _not_ get about those two words?" Ginny snapped, her patience as well thinning. "'Go' is a nicer way of saying 'Piss Off' and 'Away' in this context, is a nicer way of saying 'Sucker'." _Relax Ginny, don't push him too far, or you might find yourself dead the next second…_

Riddle stoned for a moment, and Ginny had no idea what sort emotion was flitting through him. Was it anger? After a moments hesitation, he settled down _comfortably_ next to Ginny, and _smirked_ – a true trait of a Slytherin. "If that's the case, I _shan't_ force you. I'll simply sit here and wait for your _defiance_ to _cease_."

_Chill Ginny. He doesn't seem like he's in the mood to kill at the moment…_

Ginny limped forward pathetically, and noticed as Riddle blatantly glanced over at the students across the field, and back at Ginny, before deciding to keep up his 'kind and loving' image by standing to his feet, awkwardly taking Ginny's arm gently and snaking it around his neck.

_ARGEHJAKFSHAIDSLJFCLSDJCXM! DARK LORDDDDD….._

"_Walk_," he ordered composedly once more, and Ginny had a bad feeling she wasn't going to enjoy this journey.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thank you so much to all those who reviewed (I read all of em!) and others who subscribed to one of the stuff there! It's really encouraging! **

**(Also, I hope my friend is reading this, and really really thanks to you SOOO MUCH: name starts with a letter D) :D YAY!**


	7. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THIS STORY.. I never did...**

**Summary and Warning: Err.. enjoy..?**

**PAIRING: GINXTOM**

**Previously...**

_"Walk," he ordered composedly once more, and Ginny had a bad feeling she wasn't going to enjoy this journey._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6-Presents and Secrets<strong>

Either she was pretty heavy, or Riddle's muscles were just lacking. He mentally denied the latter assumption.

But at the moment, that physical fitness mattered little, it was his mental fitness- or hers, that irked him terribly.

He had utilized _Legilimency_ on her a couple of times- not the fully powered one, but the wandless sort, but for some bizarre reason or another, her mind was simply impenetrable. Perhaps it was due to her constant avoidance to eye contact? Riddle, had always been armed with the capability to read a person inside out, and this certainly disturbed him. But what actually infuriated him more, was that he just couldn't understand why it wouldn't work on this particular little_ girl_. The problem was...

It wasn't _Occlumency_ she was using in her defense.

If it was, Riddle would have identified it upon glance. For heaven's sake, he had prized himself for being skilled in _Occulumeny_ and _Legilimency_, and anything related to the clockworks of a person's mind. And after all, if it were Occlumency, firstly, he would _known- _ Secondly, he would have managed to read snippets of her memories before colliding into a mental barrier while trying to gain further access- And thirdly, no one, _except_ perhaps Saint-like Dumbledore and Professor Merrythought, could hold out against his _Occlumency_. But then and again, they were fully grown, powerful wizards and witches- Not to mention that Professor Merrythought was probably over 200 years of age and had countless practice on that aspect.

And she was a girl, a little one no doubt, approximately a head shorter than him.

He had tried- shifting the weight and momentum of his _Legilimency_ around the impregnable fortress of that mind of hers, searching of some sort of fault, a tiny flaw, but no, not a single gap, not a single snippet of memory, nothing slipped through it. And he had torn at the strongholds desperately, but again, it hadn't moved, nor shaken, nor bowed to his power.

It was as though she had closed herself out of the world, blocked every single prying thought from her mind- out of _paranoia_. It gave the impression that she was... experienced? Experienced manipulation, experienced pain, experienced suffering, and had decided then on, to shut down and guard herself against all possible threats.

That maddened the hell out of him.

Well, if he hadn't the advantage of his mind this time, he could always make use of his charm- his authority in conversation, to dig out information from her.

They had spoken five sentences, and from the constant flashes that flickered through her brown eyes, he perceived half of them as lies.

And since that Fridwarn girl had decided to clam up on him halfway through the journey, it was an obvious indication of her refusal to speak any further, hence there was no point starting another conversation – and besides, Riddle had never been pressured upon to start one before.

Just from that mere exchange of words, Riddle had already gathered some firsthand information on Fridwarn, which he hoped weren't just blatant lies conjured up by her. He would tally the results with his _circle_ once he got over and done with this, and confirm all his suspicions.

_I beat that __**dimwit**__ of a Malfoy in five sentences exchanged._

Firstly, she was a pureblood, and one of good standing as well. Secondly, her family had long passed on, which he supposed- didn't do any harm in lowering her position in society. And thirdly, _she enjoyed eating chocolate frogs_, though that was completely redundant, but pretty interesting to know.

"So," the Fridwarn girl suddenly decided to speak up. "Do _you_ like _chocolate_ _frogs_?"

Riddle was taken aback at this, and didn't bother to even cover that up. Her personality was just… so bizarre, so _unpredictable_. From weak, to guarded, to open, to smart, to heroic, to defiant, and now just absolutely crazy. What kind of _intellectual conversation_ was this?

"Me?" He replied levelly "Why is it... any of your concern?" Well, truthfully, it did come out blunter than he had decided on.

_This, was a complete waste of time. _Riddle simply would not comprehend why anyone would engage in such obsolete conversation.

"Do you like chocolate frogs? Or what do you like?" the girl infuriatingly refused to budge, having no intention of steering the conversation elsewhere.

_What game was she playing? _Riddle's eyes narrowed suspiciously towards her.

"I have no particular favourites," he replied exasperatedly. "My background, as you see, never really provided me the opportunity to try many of them. And yours?"

_Wonderful, _Riddle thought slyly. _A successful maneuver of the topic- to something more constructive for myself to set a firm informative base upon._

_How wrong he was. That Fridwarn girl never ceased to surprise him._

"Is that so?" Fridwarn glanced up at him for the first time. "Shall I recommend you some? Let's see, Bertie Botts every flavor beans isn't too bad, but you've got to watch out for vomit flavor, or earwax flavor…"

_She maneuvered it back? _Riddle thought with somewhat surprise. She seemed at the moment to possess full reign over the direction of their conversation and Riddle wasn't amused at that. Conversation topics were _always_ by his command and he was proud to admit that he had never allowed the engagement in anything this _stupid_ before.

But this time, the only thing he could do was listen. He listened to her strangely-lively-self describe the different flavors of Bertie Botts every flavoured beans the rest of the way to the Hospital Wing.

And as he helped her in, he realized, that perhaps she was pretty normal unlike what her behavior suggested, and against all logical reasoning, that he enjoyed the conversation. _Well, just a tiny tiny tiny bit._

* * *

><p>Ginny was more-than glad when they reached the hospital wing.<p>

She had nearly run out of _flavours _to describe to the silently fuming Riddle, and her over-reactive mind had kept screaming: _Talk more! Talk more! Distract him! He'll forget about killing you!_

Well, if he did want to kill her, Ginny's more logical part reasoned, he would have done it before waiting for her to describe finish the diarrhea flavor-

"OOOH! There you are! My darling Ginny, and OH, what a gentleman Mr Riddle!" The Matron's voice _oohed_ and _aahed_ from within the wing. She peered out, wand at hand, "Do come on in, I'm working on Mr Potter at the moment."

_Oh MATRON! _Ginny was ever so glad to revisit her previous life saver, and the woman who of which resembled her mother, that she could not help limping forward a bit, dragging Riddle after her, who grasped the opportunity to untangle her arm from his shoulder.

"MADAM!" Ginny yelled excitedly, over-writing Riddle's _hypocritical-_polite, "You flatter me, Madam."

"No need to scream so, My Dear, or you might just bring the school crumbling down!" The Matron gave an evil chuckle. "Oh Ginny, you're just _so_ prone to accidents are you? That's _twice_ this year. Though, I have to admit, I've been feeling extremely bored without your company!"

Ginny grinned at this, completely forgetting the Dark Lord by her side, looking cool and indifferent to their _tearful_ reunion.

"If you would excuse me, Madam," Riddle voiced out warmly, a beautifully authentic smile etched on his pale face. "I had better return to my class. Transfigurations would be next, and Professor Dumbledore wouldn't be too pleased at my absence."

_Ahhh, finally, _Ginny heaved a sigh of relief. _Run along little Voldermort. No one cares._

_But… _She realized with some hesitation_, it's only __**right**__ to thank him, right? After all…_

"OHH!" The Matron exclaimed once more. "Do so, do so! Your gir- Your friend will be just fine with me! Not to worry! Go on, go on!"

_Now! This is the right time!_

Ginny opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again, "Errr, thanks, you know…?" Then she tried her best _sweet smile_ which she hoped _didn't_ end up like a sour grimace.

The prefect stared back at her for a moment, with an indecipherable look on his face, before replying, "My honour."

_Yes, you should be __**honoured**__! That was THE princess you helped here! _Ginny found her thoughts becoming bolder with the Matron by her side.

Riddle gave one last respectful nod before sweeping out of the Wing without another word. Either he did not hear the 'girl-friend' slip, heard it but couldn't be bothered to correct her, or simply couldn't care less about it.

_Well, it doesn't matter does it? He's-_

"He's one nice gentlemanly boy!" The Matron commented, unknowingly finishing Ginny's mental sentence with the exact opposite words. "Armando- I mean, Dippet should take classes from him. Don't you think, dear Ginny?"

Ginny cringed at this, but decided that Dippet indeed needed to take manner-lessons. _If Dippet goes on like that, he might find that his only willing companion would be- his __**broomstick**__._

"Yes," Ginny agreed thoroughly. "Professor Dippet does need to attend some classes." She leaned forward and watched as the Matron attempted fixing Potter up, with some intricate wand waves. "How's Potter doing?"

"He's still out cold," The Matron smiled as she discarded her wand on the side table. "Did all I could! He's in _much_ better shape now, right? Just have to wait for him to wake up. But I guess it wasn't much work, I suppose- He weren't thrashing about like you were, madly!"

Ginny grinned again at this. "I'm a hard patient, eh? Good luck!" And she shifted herself till she was comfortable on the hospital bed, before feeling her head go floaty-light.

She heard the Matron say something about, "Once Potter wakes up, he'll be completely _overwhelmed _by your heroic deed!", before her mind irritably pushed it aside, as she fell into a pretty _peaceful_ slumber.

* * *

><p>Ginny woke up, feeling <em>much<em> better in a long time. Potter, she noticed was still very much _out_, and the Matron- She tilted her head to the left -was busy tidying some extravagantly decorated boxes on her side table.

"What are those?" Ginny asked, alert as ever, propping herself up against her pillow- before realizing that she was feeling _better-than-ever_ because her leg hurt not a single bit. "Good Merlin Madam! My leg's completely healed!"

"You're awake, dear!" The Matron chirped merrily. "Of course your leg is healed! Due to _someone's _hard work!" She winked at Ginny and Ginny felt the urge of embracing the middle-aged lady round her tubby middle.

"Amazing, Matron! And what spell did you use?"

"Something of my own creation! A piece of your bone was jutting out a bit at your shin, so I simply popped it back into place!"

Ginny made a grossed-out face at the Matron's easy-going-manner over such a gruesome subject (but that was just her), and had to resist the urge to imagine a piece of her shin poking out.

Her gaze began to linger on the variety of coloured boxes, around six or seven stacked up neatly by her side table, and out of curiosity, reached for one, and read the few words imprinted on it.

"From Olive. From Olive? To The One and Only Heroine? Gracious Matron! When did _she_ come? I do want to speak with her!"

"You mean, when did they _all_ come? When you and Potter were asleep of course, both of your admirers tried to break down the hospital wing door." The Matron gestured at the stacked up presents on her table, then waved at the entire mountainous load on Potter's side table, and some, even were rolling onto the floor."

"Wha… What?" Ginny's jaw dropped open.

The Matron brushed it aside as, "You're pretty new, but I'm sure once you've been here a year or two, your load might reach that height. Just wait and see!"

Ginny smiled at the Matron, and began to inspect her other presents with care, one at a time. "Olive again! And again! And again! That's four presents from her altogether!"

A normal person would have just delivered one! _Oh Olive…_

The Matron laughed at this. "Ms Hornby, my dear girl, was extremely flustered over your little injury. The first time she came, she asked 'Is Ginny awake?' I told her no, not yet, and she asked if she could see you. I let her in, and she put the present right here." Dramatically, the Matron, did a little tapping of her feet, before continuing. "Five minutes later, she came to ask again, and that's the second present. Five minutes later_ again_, she asked again, and I told her 'Dear Hornby, let me pass the present for you', so that's the third one. Then around ten minutes later, she arrived with another one, and I told her exasperatedly, 'No, no, she's not awake yet, Ms Hornby!' I swear she looked like she was going to cry!"

Ginny was over the moon when she heard of this. _Olive was concerned about her? _Ginny began to decide that Slytherins were pretty nice folks other than _many_ exceptions- _probably a hundred or two or so_.

The next two presents were anonymously from 'two Gryffindor admirers', who happened to drop by the ward. And the last, Ginny noticed, was a box of…

SHERBET LEMONS! _Dumbledore had been here?_

The scribbled note read: _**Lemon Drops for the Soul, Get well soon, Professor Dumbledore -)**_

"Professor Dumbledore!" Ginny gasped in shock. "He was here? Was I thrashing all around again?"

_Not Legilimens again, was it?_

"No," The Matron frowned. "You didn't move a bit!" Then the Matron's frown deepened as she literally glared down at the Sherbet Lemon as though it were a horcrux or something. "He gave Mr Potter one as well. I did want to throw it out- but he begged for them to stay. I've never agreed with him on this sort of Muggle Sweets! Sugar! The sugar can kill!"

"Matron!" Ginny decided after all browsing gratefully through her beautifully wrapped presents that- "I won't open them now! I think I ought to thank those people. What time is it now?"

"Around dinner, dinner time-"

"I feel perfectly fine! I'm going on out to thank Olive and Professor Dumbledore! I'll be right back!"

"Ginny-"

But Ginny had hopped off her bed, and zipped out of the room like a hippogriff after a piece of meat.

After all, _I really want to speak with Olive anyway._

* * *

><p>Dumbledore wasn't hard to find. He had been wandering about the corridors near the Hospital Wing, and Ginny nearly crashed head on with him.<p>

Ginny _wondered_ if he _wandered _often. _He does seem like the type to wander and float about aimlessly after all._

"Oh, Ginny," Dumbledore said, looking down at her through that half moon glasses of his. "What a coincidence, I was about to find you."

"Really? Me too. The thing is: I wanted to thank you for that box of lemon drops… Yes."

The man simply smiled warmly, reminding Ginny of _the Dumbledore in her time. _

"Not to worry. The whole world should share its joy."

"Thank you so much!"

Ginny then remembered something. "So you wanted find me because…?"

The wizard nodded pretty seriously- definitely a bit too serious for a Dumbledore, and Ginny had a feeling she wouldn't like the news. He then began speaking so softly that Ginny had to strain her ears to hear what he had to say. _Why suddenly so secretive? What is-_

"About your little time mishap. The other day, forgetful me, I forgot to mention- Time travel's prohibited by the ministry. So it's best not to mention it to anyone."

"Prohibited by the Ministry of Magic?" Ginny asked just as softly, the image of **Prohibited Time Spells and Memory Charms **flickering into her head guiltily.

"Yes. They categorize the crime as meddling with time- which is the most serious offense of all times. It'll get you a life sentence Azkaban, I must say."

"So… What do I do, then?"

Dumbledore seemed to be all calmness, compared to the fretting Ginny- who was twisting her wand away in worry, as he explained slowly. "My advice is for you to try to figure out how to return to your time as swiftly and silently as possible."

Ginny felt her insides turn cold at this supposed advice, and felt herself wishing desperately for the Matron's Butterbeer. _That's the only thing I just can't do…_

"Professor Dumbledore, you saw the spell cast, didn't you? In my memories… I was wondering… Do you know how it's possible for me to get back?"

And when Dumbledore sadly shook his head, Ginny thought she might roll over and just die. _Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of all times, NOT knowing that spell? Then, what am I supposed to do huh?_

"Truthfully speaking," Dumbledore finally shattered the dead silence with two lighthearted words. "I didn't see much during the _Legilimens_. I just saw the older version of myself, and immediately deduced the fact that you were from the future. But I am absolutely sure that you'll make a great start at the library. The Restricted Section of course."

_O_Olll… Does he know I snuck in past curfew hour or something?_

"Err, actually Professor, I've tried, but the monster-books _jump._ As in, they can jump out on you and… err, bite you all around."

Dumbledore readjusted his lopsided half-moon glasses till he could see straight. "Do you have a pure, true intention, Ginny? I'm certain they can sense it."

Ginny had no reply for that absolutely nutty question. _Has that guy gone off his rockers? Has he eaten too much Lemon Drops? Has-_

"The guardians of the book each belong to a certain witch or wizard, whom has sacrificed a bit of their soul to _protect_ the contents of the book-"

"WHAT?" Ginny said a bit too loud, hearing the sound reverberate through the corridors. _Now that's one thing I didn't even know after that full-fledged Wizarding War Experience. _"Like a horcrux you say?"

_Yes, like the __**diary**__ horcrux of Riddle in my first year… _Ginny shivered at the very thought of the guardian seizing control over her.

"No, no," Dumbledore immediately said. "Completely different. I do have a book with important information in which I protect myself- and it's necessary to do so. Can't risk it falling into the wrong hands, no?"

"Oh," was all Ginny managed to say amid the shocking revelation. "Thank you."

Dumbledore smiled that Dumbledore-ly smile of his once again, and swept his elegant-swishy-crazily-coloured cloak about him, and two thoughts entered her mind at that exact moment.

As usual, one was silly, while the other was not.

_Cool! I must get one of those swishy cloaks in my old age._

The second was, "Professor Dumbledore sir… If there were many precious things that I've lost in the future, and I know I could change it now… Do I?"

But Ginny already knew the answer. The words _'meddling with time' _echoed in Ginny's head, and the answer was apparent, shouting it loud and clear like _Snape doing a ken-ken_.

A soft sigh, and Dumbledore swished his cloak around to face Ginny, looking older and wearier than usual. "Well Ginny, it would be better if you allow nature to control its flow."

And with those wise words which could not possibly be put any better, Dumbledore made his electrifyingly cool departure, and Ginny found herself staring at thin air.

_What? So means I just stand there like a pillar and let Riddle go about his evil devious plans? _ Ginny just could not digest that idea.

* * *

><p>Ginny had headed down to the Great Hall to find Olive next, but unfortunately, was greeted by Draco's grandfather instead, who flapped his arms epically, stopping her from proceeding any further. He did say something, but Ginny didn't exactly process it.<p>

_My gosh, he looks like a flapping __**Poisonous-Duck**__ (like those types bred in the Ministry), what in Merlin's eyebrow could he possibly want to extort now?_

"Fridwarn! Listen here. You see, you just beat the best-seeker-ever-to-step-foot-in-Hogwarts to the snitch. So, I was wondering-"

_Well of course the snitch's __**life**__ is more important than Potter's __**life**__ to him, _Ginny couldn't help but notice.

Malfoy flew off at that, running a full circle round the Slytherin table till he reached Riddle at the far end. They exchanged a hushed conversation, with Malfoy looking meek, and Riddle occasionally glancing up darkly to study her closely- as though checking out his new much-disliked broom, before he nodded shortly at Malfoy.

_Grandfather_ Malfoy raced back to Ginny, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, but failing terribly, as every single the pair of eyes around the table, fell upon him, then upon Ginny.

That idiot Malfoy began prodding her about all over, invading her privacy as he inspected every part of her, criticizing it merrily on the way. "Thin" -prod at shoulders- "Small" - prod at back- "Short" -prod on her head- "A tiny little girl" -a hard whack in her back causing her to nearly flip over-. _BAS-TARD._

Ginny winced at this, and snarled at him. "What the hell do you think you're-"

Malfoy smirked, and held out his hand to her charmingly, for the first time behaving like a proper gentleman (just that the smirk pissed Ginny off) - and Ginny began to wonder if this was the sort of etiquette in the 1940s. "_Perdonami, bella donna._"

"What?" Ginny snapped back, feeling her hand itching for her wand in annoyance.

"Forgive me, _fair_ lady," Malfoy translated, sweeping into a too-formal-to-the-point of epic bow. The theatrics were cut short by the teasing smirk reappearing on his features. "Nah," -he straightened and brushed his hair back- "just wanted to ask if you would try out as a seeker. You see Fridwarn, Slytherin has bothered to resort to _little_ _girls_ to help us win the Quidditch cup. We are _desperate_, you see."

Ginny's eyes narrowed at this. _What in Merlin's name was this sexist arse playing it? _"Very funny, Malfoy."

"After _alot_ of consideration by our _commission_- I was one of those who disagreed" -the perfect charmer- "we've decided, for the sake of the house cup, to set aside all ethical and logical reasoning, and allow a girl like you to join the Quidditch team. Be…" Another annoying smirk. "Be Slytherin's seeker."

A mixture of anger due to the prejudice, and pleasant surprise welled up within her.

Ginny was completely unsure. A seeker was _cool,_ but adding a _Slytherin_ at the back of the _seeker_ just turned tables. That was _not_ cool. Furthermore, being under a white-haired _Malfoy_ was just disgusting.

But she loved flying. Flying… Flying set her free.

There was a pause, and she nodded, trying to fumble for an excuse to agree. "Sounds like an order, doesn't it? Seems like I don't have much of a choice."

Malfoy did the Slytherin-trademark-smirk, _though needing a slight bit more of improvements before he could actually take on Riddle_, before slapping Ginny's back again with vigour. He did seem to have an obsession with abusing girls. "First little girl on the team, do the females proud! I'm your captain! Call me Captain Malfoy!"

_Captain Malfoy sounds gross! But then Captain Sestenal doesn't sound much better…_

"Right, Captain Malfoy, seen Olive about?"

"Hornby?" Malfoy re-iterated, deliberately switching to her last name- a dark look with a mixture of anxiety, hatred and fear crossing his features. "Nope, not at all." Before he walked briskly back to Riddles side which reminded Ginny of a _pet owl_.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Writing is fun! Is this okay?**


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything here**

**PAIRING: GINXTOM**

**Summary and Warning: there... **

**A/N: I really do want to thank my precious reviewers! There aren't much reviews, so I shall thank all of you down here! (And 7 is a lucky number!) Thank you Ashi-Grey, purple 389, Azalie-Kaurie, tasha0101, Unique and Alive, Dare2Dream, Sparkle Glitter and Recess Fanantic 2011! :D THANK YOU SO MUCH YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME! :DD:D:D::D:D:D:**

**Previously...**

"Hornby?" Malfoy re-iterated, deliberately switching to her last name. "Nope, not at all." Before he walked briskly back to Riddles side which reminded Ginny of a _pet owl_.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7-Herbology, Ghosts, and Heirs<strong>

Ginny, after running bouts around the Great Hall in search of Olive, decided to return to the Hospital Wing after crashing into Professor Beery who was very eager to give her a make-up lesson on something about _Dragon dung compost_ and its _uses_. Ginny hurriedly declined; decided that bumping into professors was the worst thing that could happen to anyone, and made it back to the Hospital Wing rather disappointed.

Only to find that: Olive had been pacing up and down outside the Hospital Wing! When Olive had spotted her, she had been so relieved to see her alive and kicking, that she pulled her into a breathless embrace.

They had begged the Matron to release Ginny back to her dormitory, and the Matron had finally agreed after Olive had compromised with her on never trying to breakdown the Hospital Wing Door again.

"I can safely say Ginny, you barely missed anything! There wasn't any homework, except a great deal of Herbology-"

"_Dragon dung compost_," Ginny sighed, recalling Professor Beery's joyous expression over his favourite topic.

"Well, duh," Olive smirked at Ginny (her first time), before saying sarcastically. "How'd you _ever_ guess?"

"Ran into Professor Beery, goodness knows what he preached about."

Olive laughed, and explained, "It was a long lesson on _that_. According to him, that's the _basic _piece of information we need to know before we start planting next week. You've got eight whole pages to do on that. I dare say you'll need my help for once!"

Ginny groaned and vented her anger in the most constructive way- which was stacking the presents up into a pyramid on her bedside table. She realized that she had many things that she needed to get done the following week:

Slug Club _though_ the paper had disintegrated on her

Quidditch training_, though_ Malfoy had called himself 'Captain Malfoy' before racing off without telling her the training date

A visit to the Restricted Section, _though_ the information Dumbledore gave her was just outright strange _and _she needed the library to be empty

An apology to Myrtle, _though_ sneaking into the Prefects Bathroom was strictly against the rules

_Wow, there are a great lot of __**thoughs**__, _Ginny couldn't help but point out. _Though though though though…_

She sighed, plopped herself down at her 'study table', and began her work on _Dragon dung compost_.

* * *

><p>As time flew by, her nightmares began to gradually fade, and Olive's confidence improved a bit as well.<p>

Ginny spent a few days brushing up on her Herbology- and whatever she missed, although she was absolutely certain Herbology was just not her cup of tea. _Magical plants_, they all grew _so_ slowly, that Ginny often had to restrain herself from uprooting them out of impatience. After all, patience wasn't her best trait.

Olive on the other hand, couldn't stop chatting about her 'heroine' deed, incessantly repeating that it had already spread around the school.

A few nights later, Ginny decided that there couldn't be a better day to sneak into the Prefect's Bathroom to visit Myrtle, and after all, all that nerdying away had made her hands itch for something more exciting.

And- how could one concentrate on _Herbology _with guilty images of Myrtle trying to commit suicide in the girls' toilet constantly disrupting her train of thoughts?

She had gotten tired of blotting her homework for fun, and threw all her homework aside in disgust before announcing to Olive, "I'll go mad if this continues. I'm going to take a bath- at the _Prefects _Bathroom!"

"You _are_ already mad," Olive commented, putting down her quill, looking as though a Hungarian Horntail had burst into the Girls Dormitory. "I was _joking_ when I suggested that Ginny."

"But Olive, do you happen see Myrtle around anymore?"

"No, I guess it's pretty strange that she just quit stalking me after your arrival," Olive agreed with a tiny shrug. "But I'm really _not_ complaining as I've said before."

Ginny sighed, another image of Myrtle dunking her head in the toilet bowl wormed its way into her mind, and she muttered, "That just proves it: I made her _horribly_ upset. She's probably trying to _kill_ herself in the toilet. And come to think of it, I feel pretty bad…" _And there are certain things I would like to confirm with her, _but Ginny left that piece out.

"You're _really_ going!" Olive yelped, straightening on her bed as she watched Ginny pack up, throwing her towel into her little shower bag. "Don't get caught or the Slytherins- especially the _inner circle_ will _murder_ you for having their _precious_ points deducted!"

Ginny nodded, deciding to dismiss her curiosity on 'inner circles' before heading on outside. "See you later, Olive! If you yearn for a bubble-bath, do join me!"

She could here Olive muttering something about 'hard to sneak in and take an _entire_ shower without getting caught'.

But it didn't matter- she had this fluttering feeling in her stomach that she had to get this done sooner or later anyway.

* * *

><p><em>Fifth floor, ah, I'm here, <em>Ginny scrutinized the intricately designed _Prefects_ bathroom door. _And unfortunately someone has to be taking a bubble bath at this-_

The door swung open to reveal a messy wet-haired Draven Sestenal just after his prized _bubble-bath_. He was_ smiling_- and because of that, she could barely recognize his usually dark self.

Ginny swore he was _smiling_ for some reason, though was positive that she had never spotted him smile in his whole entire life so far.

_What- Him? Best friend of Potters. And that's the guy the group of girls were talking about yesterday right? The __**amazing **__Quidditch__'__**spell- lord'**__ who, according to __**fan girl reports**__, took a particularly long time in the bathroom…_

Even Olive had mentioned a bit of him…

After approximately three seconds, Sestenal gaze finally adjusted, and he seemed to realize that a Slimy-Slytherin-Git was standing before him. His unusually cheerful smile of his snapped off at once, before he studied Ginny cautiously, his eyes flickering to her bagged belongings…

_He seems to think Slytherins are a bunch of up-to-no-good peeps__. Not that I disagree with him…_

"This bathroom-"

"I know," Ginny quickly interrupted, "I thought my friend was inside so, I was just- you know, waiting for her to come out."

_That came out pretty lame… He's going to minus ten points from Slytherin-_

"You saved Aron," Sestenal suddenly brought up in a bewildered tone, as though wondering how a Slytherin was capable of that sort. "Thank you."

"No need. It's just right to, isn't it?" Ginny was so shocked, that she honestly didn't know how to react to his abrupt moodswings, or what to say for that matter.

_He __**is **__handsome, _Ginny noted, finding herself unconsciously checking-out his features. _In a sort of cool-guy way. Fine, I'm no professional at this-but I do understand a-bit, despite his darker qualities, why half the girls go nuts over him._

"Very Gryffindor of you," he smiled suddenly once more, and his smile, unlike Riddles, was not a cold smirk, but one which radiated warmth – and Ginny immediately understood where his popularity came from unlike Riddle who probably went around torturing people to elevate his social status.

"Thank you- Errr, so is Pott- I mean, Aron, doing fine?"

"Yes, perfectly." There was a brief hesitation as though Sestenal was calculating how much information was safe to share with a Slytherin. Eventually, he sighed and continued, "He came round a few days ago, but is being held up by the Matron. He praises your Quidditch skills at every turn. You're on the team, I presume?"

"Um, yes I think." _Malfoy- I mean** Captain** Malfoy, didn't really tell me much. _

"Well," Sestenal nodded to her in actual _approval_. "Your bravery would be a good addition for the _Slytherin _team. Something that they _lack_, really."

And with that scathing remark, he had disappeared down the corridor altogether.

_That guy gives me strange __**vibes**__, _Ginny stared after him. _Riddle and him are so different, yet so similar._

She then swept the weird encounter of her mind_, _before creeping stealthily into the Prefects Bathroom with glee.

* * *

><p>Harry was right when he said the Prefect's Bathroom was fit for someone like Cornelius Fudge. It was awesomely grandeur- though in an ancient type of way. Its style was very much similar to the Great Hall, but instead of a large table at the centre, was a large <em>large <em>circular bath tub, with a whole load of colourful bubble-like knobs of different sizes plastered on it.

_Blooody hell! _Ginny's mind jumped at that. _How did Sestenal bathe like that? Do they have like a how-to-work-the-bathroom session for all prefects or something?_

Then she remembered the main reason why she was here in the first place. _Don't get carried away by the bubbles and buttons, darling Ginny._

"Myrtle? I know you're in there!" No response.

"Myrtle! Please do appear!" Nothing.

"Myrtle, I'm sorry for-"

"Looking for poor wretched little Myrtle?" A high pitched haunting voice drifted to her ears, before the ghost appeared, seemingly on the way to the door out.

_Myrtle's leaving already? I thought she stays here till half-past ten?_

"Myrtle," Ginny blabbered. "I came to say I'm terribly sorry. Terribly sorry about… About last week. I shouldn't have called you names. I'm an idiotic Slytherin.. The worse in the world. Myrtle, I'm sorry. I'm really really _really_ sorry."

When the translucent ghost turned to face Ginny, Ginny realized Myrtle was oddly beaming just as much as Sestenal had, and didn't even seem _near_ the verge of trying to kill herself – a true relief to her conscience.

_She's happy_, Ginny realized with some pleasant surprise. _She's truly happy_. _If I got killed by a snake bite, I would never be able to smile again. Not like that…_

Myrtle floated towards her, joy tainting her features. "Ginny, you're the first person who ever apologized to poor-forsaken-Myrtle!"

"Olive did," Ginny said distractedly, her attention momentarily turned to the bubble-like knobs. "She did quite a lot in fact."

"Obnoxious Olly?" Myrtle floated directly in front of Ginny's vision, her translucent body trying to catch-back Ginny's attention. "I don't count her in one bit. I'd to stalk her for a pretty long time before she apologized there."

"So you forgive me?" Ginny grinned, climbing into the tub to further check-them-out. "Nice- Didn't think it so simple. Oh, Errr… Sorry Myrtle," Ginny gestured animatedly towards the thousand buttons. "I may need some help with the knobs…"

The ghost shifted herself to the circular bathtub as well, before giggling a high pitch laugh- in which the frequency was so high that it caused Ginny's head to throb non-stop. "Draven said that the colours discern the type of water you receive. He pressed the red one for me to see. Got a nice blood bath he did! Why don't you try a green?"

_That, _Ginny thought, _would be goo-_

_Wait- Draven? Draven Sestenal? He talks to her?_

"Sestenal? You mentioned him? He talks to you Myrtle?" Ginny asked, her interest of the extravagantly coloured knobs beginning to fade.

The ghost had to clam up there, looking very uncomfortable as she drifted off to the opposite side of the gigantic tub. She didn't say another word, so Ginny proceeded to let her thoughts take over.

_Sestenal allows her to watch him bathe? YUCKSYUCKSYUCKSYUCKS!_

_Be serious Ginny, that's not the point…_

"Does everyone talk to you Myrtle? Everyone knows you're here?" Ginny couldn't help but probe a bit further.

The ghost sighed, and began twirling her hair, levitating herself a bit higher above the tub, before kicking back and relaxing. "Who would talk to poor moaning Myrtle? Just a teeny weeny precious few do."

"Myrtle," Ginny asked directly, deciding to zoom in straight to the puzzling _Riddle_. "Does Riddle talk to you?" _That's a stupid question Ginny, Riddle killed her, why would he ever speak to her ghost-form? And why, would he ever allow Myrtle to watch him bathe in the first place…?_

The casual atmosphere of the bathroom seem to temporarily freeze over. Ginny glanced up worriedly at Myrtle, wondering if she were alright, only finding her looking as-stonily-pale-as-a-Malfoy.

Then the answer popped into Ginny's head just like that. How insensitive of her! _Myrtle obviously knows! She knows Riddle killed her of course!_

_And she's scared of him still._

"Myrtle, you knew…" Ginny whispered, trying to adjust to the new icy cold atmosphere. "You knew that Riddle was your murderer…" _Of course! She vanishes whenever Riddle arrives. She's still frightened of him after all that. Remember in the library where she just upped and ditched us?_

_But then and again, she vanishes at the slightest bit of shock._

Myrtle had suddenly grown gravely silent at this, too silent for a _Myrtle_ that it unnerved Ginny horribly.

"You knew! I never knew you did," Ginny murmured, the questions in her head seeming like a bunch of Bludgers, zipping madly back and forth, thrashing about within her throbbing skull. "But if you knew, you never said a thing."

_But of course, the ministry of magic would never take into account a ghost's recount. It could be vengefully warped by it after all… Oh, how sneaky that Riddle is… _

_Yes, he may win now,_

_But never again._

_I won't allow that._

_I can't. So many suffered at his hands._

_Mom, Dad, Fred, George, Harry, Ron, Charlie, Percy, Hermione, Bill, Dumbledore, Everyone…_

"Myrtle," Ginny announced, suddenly finding herself full of uncontrollable fiery determination. _Whoa even my stance looks pretty cool._ "He's _never_ going to get away like this again." She glanced up at Myrtles whose complexion still resembled that of Harry's snowy owl. "Look Myrtle, there's no need to fear him."

_Am I being hypocritical? Telling her not to fear Riddle when I do myself? Well…_

"Err, You're dead Myrtle," Ginny tried to fit it in logically. "No offense, but he can't do much to you like that."

The ghost-girl slowly lowered herself till she met Ginny's gaze, and Ginny found that Myrtle's eyes were filled with a mixture of fear and sorrow, her voice high and trembling. "I… Even Peeves doesn't dare to zip through him which he does do to everyone else. He takes a careful effort to move around…-_Riddle_ instead."

"Myrtle," Ginny put out firmly, exuberating much more charisma than she had intended. "Riddle takes _joy _in that- knowing people, I mean and also, _things_, fear him. He's a sadistic psychopath. And I'm absolutely certain he's planning something terrible. I do have some _contextual knowledge_ about it…" Ginny bit her lip in feverish anticipation, hoping Myrtle (a Ravenclaw) was dense enough to miss the slip. "Err, yes, I do want to keep tabs on him."

_Hint hint, I hope Myrtle's smart enough to get this._

The ghost kicked at Ginny playfully, her legs going right through Ginny's stomach, her absolutely irritating demeanor kicking back in. "And you ne-eed my help!" Before she began her giggling cycle all over again.

Ginny stared at Myrtle's foot through her stomach exasperatedly, before inching back uncomfortably, not so happy with the idea of a foot in her stomach, whether it belonged to a ghost or not. "Um, you're a ghost right? And, it seems like you can go invisible and all."

Myrtle's giggling erupted into ghost-fits, the clarion sound nearly shattering Ginny's poor eardrum. "Dee-al! After you go on and press the cute little green button!"

Ginny already began to regret her request. _Never_ make deals with a ghost, especially a Myrtle-one.

* * *

><p><em>I'm screwed, <em>realized Ginny, finding herself face to face with the Flawless-Dark-Lord himself as she pulled out from the Prefects Bathroom after her tremendously horrible experience with _Goo-water_.

Both dread and anxiety flickered through her thoughts. Did he manage to catch their conversation? Practically her entire conversation with Myrtle was centered upon Riddle - and his beastly crimes. However, it was highly unlikely that he did, for Ginny had ensured that a particularly strong silencing charm had been cast upon the walls of the bathroom. And she had gone to the extent of checking it twice, in fact. Furthermore, he couldn't have been standing out there the entire time, could he?

_I seriously wish now that Myrtle hadn't been giggling so much._

She desperately wanted to confirm whether he was still kept in the dark or not, and needed a plan to milk some answers out of him. Riddle, that _selfish idiot_, after all, was not the type to disclose unnecessary information if it weren't beneficial to solely _him_ and _him-the -great_.

Threatening? Not so. That was _too_ Slytherin, and besides, he probably and years and years of practice countering that sort, being in such an 'extorting' house and all. Besides, he wasn't called the Dark Lord for nothing. Threats would just amplify the _'I-want-to-die-in-my-bed' _banner stuck proudly on her uniform at this moment.

Ginny decided to try the _sneaky _approach, hoping he would as dense as Myrtle to miss it.

"So," Ginny said indifferently, trying to act as though her life didn't depend on his answer. "You must be cold, mustn't you? Standing out here for so long?"

Most _typical_ people would smile at her _touching concern_, and reply _amiably_, "Nah, I didn't stand here long.", or _worse_ case shriek, "Yes! What took you so long?" But for Voldermort's… Well, he defied the logic of sane.

Riddle raised his eyebrows, before he smirked dangerously - and mirthlessly, "My, Fridwarn, how _caring_, aren't you? Eluding the first redundant question, in reply I'll tell you that: I've stood here _long enough_."

Ginny's heart lurched at this._ LONG ENOUGH? Merlin's teeth! Is he **implying** that he heard everything?_

"I_ apologise_ to have kept you waiting," Ginny hurriedly returned, the insincerity of the words leaving a bitter sensation in her mouth. "Err, have a_ nice_ bath." **_Hope you_**_ don't **drown** **in the bubbles**_– which she wisely left unspoken.

She swiftly made an attempt to push past the obstinate prefect, only to find that he was deliberately blocking her path with that slim built of his, his jaw line clenched in a manner that Ginny knew that she was _Basilisk-pulp_. _Not a good sign, Ginny darling._

"What!" Ginny snapped, sounding surprisingly much braver than her melting insides, probably due to facing someone actually _more_ irritating than Fred and George combined. "What in Godric's name are you doing?"

The sides of Riddle's doll-like lips tugged upwards sadistically, possibly the closest he had ever come to a proper smile. Their proximity at the moment allowed Ginny to make an almost accurate comparison of their height difference. _Which sucked_, for he was approximately a head taller than her, towering over the small, petite girl before him.

"What?" Ginny flared once more - more nervously, when Riddle failed to reply.

"Not much." Riddle finally said, nodding towards her, his eyes annoyingly not revealing _anything_, before **abruptly reaching to his pocket for something**. "Just to impart some advice to you, Fridwarn. Silencing spells are easily tampered with."

_HOLY MERLIN! NO! He heard! He heard- _Ginny's jaw dropped so much that she could have stuffed an entire casserole dish into it. _O_Olll_

Realizing that she was probably going to die-in-her-bed either today or tomorrow, Ginny couldn't care less about restraining herself any further. Whipping out her unicorn-cored wand, she noticed that Riddle had somehow quicker reflexes that she did, with his wand already firmly trained on her menacingly, poised and ready for any spell she decided to propel at him.

_Dammit. That guy's slippery fast._

"What a temper, Fridwarn. Though I can safely say that I expected that," Riddle straightened his wand arm intimidatingly, before gently tapping Ginny's drawn wand downwards so that it returned uselessly to her side. "Trying to hex a _prefect_ in a deserted corridor after curfew? How _very_ rule abiding of you."

_Playing the victim now, are you? _Ginny thought distastefully, fighting the urge to cast an unforgivable curse on that _insufferable slippery prat_. "You'd better _retract_ your wand, Riddle. Anyone happening to pass by might get the _wrong_ idea. And... no, we _wouldn't_ want such _terrible_ misunderstanding, would we?"_ And, once you do, I might consider jinxing you, before snapping that murderous yew wand of yours once and for all. Day saved. The end._

At that, Riddle's eyes narrowed suspiciously towards Ginny's limp wand hand, which was currently feigning innocence by lying obediently by her side. The look in those icy blue eyes of his was perilously calculating as he decided to give Ginny half the benefit of the doubt, by lowering his wand a tiny little notch.

_Mistake!_

That was enough of a prompt from Riddle. She didn't need Riddle to actually _agree_ for her to escape after all. With that little lower of guard, Ginny grabbed the opportunity to send a couple of non-verbal hexes across to Riddle while retreating backwards slowly, wand in her right hand, and bathing clothes in the other.

Riddle on the other hand, his expression was deadly calm, showed no traces of weaknesses or emotions, but Ginny had this sinking feeling that he was probably secretly contemplating her _funeral date_ while effortlessly brushing off the spells fired at him, yet making no move to finish Ginny off.

_C'mon Ginny, send him a hard one! Then just RUN._

"SECTUMSEMPRA!" Ginny shrieked, a burst of hazardous razor thin light was sent soaring in Riddle's direction. It was only after the spell actually emerged from her wand, Ginny began to regret hollering about so loudly, especially after curfew.

She really wished that she had the time to enjoy witnessing the full effects of the spell on Riddle, but her sixth sense told her to escape _NOW_. She fled round the corners that very instant, simultaneously perking up to a woman's voice questioning Riddle harshly.

_This **was **strange indeed_, Ginny couldn't help but wonder, _I didn't even hear her footsteps advancing towards us! As silent as the grave! Spooky!_

Ginny scrambled away silently from their conversation, moving stealthily down a different aisle, grinning triumphantly at the assumption that a professor had caught Riddle amid an illegal duel past curfew. The grin felt just awesome, but unfortunately didn't last very long when Ginny recalled Riddle's uncanny ability to charm professors, and_ whom_ she had just thrown the hexes at (and better still, maybe deprived him of his bathing time).

_The Dark Lord... Well, the **younger miniature better-looking version** of the Dark Lord... Not that that makes any difference! They're still the SAME person through and through!_

But perhaps she could avoid him for the rest of her life or something._ Yeah, when you guys are sharing EVERY class, a stinking Slytherin common room, when he has so many cronies under him, and the fact that he's probably bouncing mad at you and definitely won't let you get away for that, _a logical part of her mind countered, which, -swallowing the lump in her throat-, made total sense.

Well, at least she probably wouldn't die in her bed tonight.

_Assuming he was man enough not to break into the girls' dormitory and start a massacre or something._

* * *

><p>Ginny reached the seventh floor panting, but still very much alive. Her head was still throbbing terribly from the duel, and the mad racing away shortly afterwards. She hoped devilishly that the <em>Sectumsempra<em> spell had drained every single drop of blood from Riddle's body - but then and again, if she did manage to somehow stamp out the Dark Lord as a teenager, she may warp the future...

Hogwarts was unusually silent at night. And night was the time where all the horrors returned to haunt Ginny after abstaining from her the entire day. She had grown to detest the night.

Noises. Noises from the distance advancing nearer.

Ginny did the most intelligent thing her dizzied mind could conjure at that moment - and vanquished the light from her wand.

_It's past curfew hour. I have to hide._

Ginny freaked out before pacing up and down the corridors, wondering how it was possible to actually hide along such a thin stretch without any part of her body sticking out.

_Hide, hide, hide. I need to hide._

The footsteps grew louder and the chanting in her mind increased along with the rhythmic tapping…

_HIDE, HIDE, HIDE. I NEED TO-_

_Great Godric! Was that a door? An entrance? Its' humongous! How can I miss something like that? I must be blinder than a bloody blasted-end Skrewt._

Without a second thought, or to admire the outstanding patterns on the gigantic doors, she shoved it open and vanished inside, fear stricken.

Darkness engulfed her as the door creaked shut, and the footsteps began to fade down the corridor. Heaving another sigh of relief for that day, she whispered, "_Lumos_." And a luminous glow flickered on at the tip of the wand, though not very strong, but overall did allow Ginny to abstain from crashing into pillars in the dark.

Even the tiles have wordings and strange pictographs on them… She was pretty sure they were now where near the Egyption Wizard's runes that their teacher had spoke of, but indecipherable complicated figures of different hues, skillfully carved on the tiling.

_I've never visited this place before… Even in present day Hogwarts!_

She let her eyes adjust, before taking cautious steps forward, until…

A colossal statue of an awe-churning Lion stood tall and proud before her, unmoving, stuck to its perch. Ginny noticed how intricately and delicately carved were its features that it appeared almost life-like, if not for the fact that it was erect, and stone.

And in its jaws, tightly gripped was none other than the…

**The Gryffindor sword.**

From where she was standing, Ginny could barely distinguish it from a normal sword, but somehow, deep down, she knew it was the Gryffindor sword and no other. She just knew. It was a sort of instinct you could call it.

_GREAT MERLIN! What's going on? _Ginny gasped in shock, _Should I turn this in to Dumbledore?_

_I suppose I should. C'mon Ginny, try for it._

She tried out a few _accios_ with her wand, only to find that Magic probably didn't work on an object which displayed such powerful magical properties. She groaned inwardly, knowing with a sense of dread that the only way up, was none other than physical.

_I'm Slytherin's Seeker. I need some physical exercise anyway._

Gingerly, Ginny clambered onto the Lion, wand between her teeth (_yuks_), climbing tediously from limb to limb, before clinging on to its mane, and hauling herself onto its head. She paused to catch her breath for a moment, before trying to pry the sword from its jaws.

It was stiff, hard, and refused to budge and inch. _Oh come on, in the name of Godric Gryffindor, I command you to-_

It moved, and the more Ginny pulled, the more it shifted, till the sword itself was in the hands of Ginny! It shone brilliantly against the small illuminated patch of light in contrast with the shrouding darkness- seeming to illuminate the entire chamber-like area.

_Then the Lion moved_. Its eyes flickered open, revealing a pair of red eyes, resembling the hue of bloodshot eyes. And Ginny had to suppress a scream, as its _mouth_ opened…-

"Welcome, H_eir of Gryffindor_."

And the ancient tiles beneath it began to shift and shift and shake, like an earthquake occurring just below the Lion, till it formed an entire previously concealed passage- overwhelmed with multitudes of darkness.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Heir of Gryffindor? I think I went a bit far. But don't worry. Ginny's not the heir of Gryffindor of course.**


	9. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY CHARACTER IN THIS STORY!**

**Pairing: GinxTom**

**Warning and Summary: Meets Dark Lord? Isn't that the point?**

**A/N: I hope its okay so far! Err... I changed a little of the previous chapter, so you might want to read it again...?**

**Previously...**

_And the ancient tiles beneath it began to shift and shift and shake, like an earthquake occurring just below the Lion, till it formed an entire previously concealed passage- overwhelmed with multitudes of darkness._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8-Threats, Charms and Awesome Half-vampires<strong>

_The Heir of Gryffindor? The Gryffindor Sword? _Ginny's mind raced, her incoherent thoughts attempting to re-join with one another.

The sanguine red ruby, embedded purposefully on the hilt of the sword gleamed menacingly, its metallic surface reflecting off the illuminated light from Ginny's wand, projecting… Projecting-

_Pandemonium, lifeless bodies strewn everywhere, mysterious figures clad in black going on a rampage. And amid all that mess, a boy. __**Neville**__, with the very same stannic razor sharp edge protruding from his anxious grip, his stance poised in attack, jaw line resolute yet in a manner of speaking, timorous. An abrupt burst of fiery emerald flames erupted from behind him, and without a second thought or hesitation, he lunged forward towards his opponent, the sword in his hand consumed in wondrous effulgence, glimmering crimson-ivory with brilliant radiance…_

"_Avada Kedavra."_

_Another flash of engulfing emerald rays. And just like that, the boy stumbled backwards uttering a cry of defeat, before his limp body was strewn aside by the impact. Just like that. _

_The sword. The sword evaporated from his grip. Disappearing as though it had never once appeared._

**The last bearer of the sword, Neville.**

Ginny screamed.

The cowardly spirit of Slytherin magically took possession of her entire being; bewitching her, body and soul. Neville, why did he, of all people, a true Gryffindor with the soul of a ferocious Lion, have to suffer at the hands of Voldermort? Why did everyone and anyone ever have to? Why?

Tears clouded her vision, and sorrow severed her logical train of reasoning. Ginny raised the chromed blade up to her eyes once more as though to inspect it, before tossing it down, hearing its metallic clatter reverberate about the chamber.

And similar to the 'vision', the sword hit the cold floor, shattering into nothingness, co-joining with the essence of darkness in the chamber.

_What a loyal sword._

Without looking back at the empty area where the sword had once been, the odd passage, or the majestic statue, Ginny ran as fast as her legs would enable her to. Out of the appearing door and back to her Slytherin common room – internally elated to be back.

* * *

><p>Ginny had screwed trying to impersonate a Gryffindor for once, and focused on preserving her life a day longer. The smartest thing was to stay as far away from Riddle as possible – after what happened last night, and she didn't need to be a Ravenclaw to figure that out.<p>

To avoid any sort of contact with Riddle, Ginny had preferred going raving mad with starvation, and cowered in the Slytherin **girls** dormitory all throughout breakfast. Ginny would have camped out there all day in fact, if not for the lessons. She had even considered gobbling down some unknown backyard weeds which grew near the edge of the Ember (forbidden) forest to get herself sent to the Hospital wing, but didn't really fancy her chances of survival.

Well… But Ginny wasn't exactly that worried about her own well being, but more of Olive's. If Ginny was going to die soon, Olive already looked very much dead. She was literally death on two feet, and at the moment, a zombie trying to haul Ginny out of her frenzied thoughts.

"We… We… need… to… go. for lessons," Olive's words were barely audible, but from the terrified look on her face, she appeared equally as reluctant as Ginny to head out for lessons. And as Ginny peered closer, she realized, with a sinking feeling, that Olive had returned to that unstable state of mind- when Ginny had first met her. _No, much much worse. She's absolutely shell shocked – as though someone just fired the killing curse in her direction or something._

Ginny had a feeling that Myrtle's annoying haunting had nothing to do with this, and she began to smell a rat. Something for certain was occurring without her knowledge…

"Olive, you didn't get enough sleep last night, did you?" Ginny was more of trying to reassure herself than to actually get a reply to her so-called 'question'.

"Mmmm…" Olive mumbled, and Ginny couldn't help but noticed Olive's lower lip quivering ever so frequently. Was it… fear? Could it be?

A silence fell over the pair once more, allowing Ginny to study Olive's abrupt change carefully. And as though sensing Ginny's worried gaze upon her, Olive shattered the silence by murmuring, "Let's… Let's go…"

Shooting another anxious look at Olive, Ginny, not needing to be prompted twice, gathered her books and swept out of the girls dormitory and into the Slytherin common room without another word.

* * *

><p>What an obscene sight to behold!<p>

The moment Olive and Ginny stepped into the Slytherin Common Room, the sight of Riddle, along with about five of his minions, seated patiently in a couple of armchairs around a circular glass table shook her up so much, that, instantly, her trained reflexes as a result of the Second Wizarding War, caused her to whip out her wand immediately and point it straight at the illegal congregation (possibly consisting of future Death Eaters).

Olive, on the other hand, shrieked in sheer horror – the terror on the face intensifying every second. _Blo-ody hell! Her screams are as high as the Fat Lady's if she really puts her heart to it!_

Riddle's stupid followers, in reaction to Ginny's threatening pose, looked so bewildered – as though Ginny had tried to _kiss_ their _great lord_ instead. It was only after a moments hesitation, did they realize her threat to their _master_, before springing off the couches at once, wands at the ready.

Riddle, their apparent leader, remained seated inept, resembling a beautiful angelic statue carved from granite, not a single lock of hair out of place. (Apparently, the Sectumsempra spell had been effectively parried from him.) His unusually composed expression again rendered Ginny with the bugging urge to just punch him across his face. But she restrained herself, and concentrated on the number of guys she might have to duel if all else failed.

Surprisingly, it was not Riddle who shattered the silence first, but one of his 'supporters' – an unfamiliar face, possibly the same age as Ginny. He would have been considered handsome, if not for his outrightly ugly sneer. "You arse of a witch- Put down your damned wand."

"No thank you," Ginny replied coldly, having no intention of being hexed across the Slytherin Common Room unprotected. Then, gingerly, she side-glanced Olive, noticing that her friend was trembling with uncontrolled fear, her hands shaking so violently that she was unable to even draw out her wand.

_Wait, I thought Olive actually found Riddle 'handsome and kind'? What happened to that warped view point of hers?_

Finally, Riddle stood, and playing the role of 'peace-loving-Riddle' as he usually did, he said smoothly, "Now, my dear Black, it's not wise to start a duel here, is it?" Then, brushing his dark hair back, he turned composedly to Ginny and fear stricken Olive, and said _sweetly_, "Young ladies, you kept the gentlemen here waiting. Please do be grateful and lower your wands, _now_."

Black, along with the rest, heeded his advice at once, and hurriedly lowered their wands, their head bowed respectfully to Riddle.

"No." Ginny's voice came out firmer than intended, drawing genuinely agape expressions from his followers. Frankly speaking, her hearts sole desire was to dash back into the girls' dormitory and curl up into a ball.

_Turn and fight Ginny, turn and fight. You have to face him eventually anyway._

"So," Ginny continued through gritted teeth, attempting to sound as amiable as possible, "what in Merlin's name do you want now? Revenge? Or, got-nothing-better-to-do?"

Riddle raised his slender eyebrow once more, and fixated her with a somewhat amused look. "How accurate, Fridwarn. I do want something."

Ginny's insides turned to liquid. Merlin's pants! ...

He then turned to a tiny boy approximately two index fingers shorter than he was. "Lestrange, the bag." Before smirking, and advancing upon Ginny unafraid, twirling his yew wand in a completely relaxed manner. "Fridwarn, Hornby, do have a look at this."

Ginny watched as Lestrange opened an exceedingly large plastic bag, feeling her organs freezing over, as her mind mentally prepared for the worst of the worst. The boy then went on to cast a levitating spell on the object, before grinning as he lifted it out of the bag effortlessly with his wand arm raised.

Really, Ginny had expected a man-eating dragon, a killer boggart, or even soul-sucking horcrux. But never did she expect her bathing stuff (yea, all covered in smelly green goo because of her unlucky encounter)...!

_Is this some sort of prank?_

"My clothes!" Ginny gasped, making an attempt to grab at it, but failing epically as Lestrange magically zipped it forward. "My _used _clothes. I must have dropped it yesterday night…-"

"Too engrossed in running away?" Riddle questioned, a bemused expression crossing his features – and Ginny had a bad feeling that he was not going to return it without something in return.

Well, what did she expect? He was the damn Heir of Slytherin after all, and had a reputation to live up to.

"Give. It. Back!" Ginny screeched, sending a boogie-bat-jinx towards Lestrange, whom ducked at the last minute, a perturbed expression written all over his face.

"Why… why does he have your clothes?" Olive whispered to Ginny, eyes wide as she stared in disbelief at their current plight.

"Don't get the wrong idea, Olive!" Ginny snapped, glaring in full force at Riddle, who looked completely indifferent at this.

"Goo?" Riddle smirked as he gestured towards her soiled clothes. "Someone as thick as yourself- Perhaps you fidgeted with the wrong button?"

His followers made a pathetic attempt to laugh.

Out of impulse, Ginny sent another non-verbal hex soaring through the air at Lestrange, but instead, it went off target and collided into another of Riddle's _best friends_, causing him to be flung back into the walls of the common room with a moan of pain.

Black, who surprisingly had some heart in that chest of his, _strolled_ over to help him up.

"My dear Fridwarn," Riddle said silkily. "Has anyone taught you to bargain? I suggest you hold in your temper while you're at it, considering you're at _my_ mercy."

"Exactly," Black shot back ferociously, his wand hand twitching with restrained ferocity. "I was thinking- As we have discussed-" He glanced at Riddle nervously, as though unsure whether to continue, "Hanging your underwear up in the Slytherin common room would be interesting. So shut up if you don't wish to be embarrassed to death."

"WHAT?" Olive and Ginny shrieked. "You guys are… Perverts!" Ginny spluttered, not knowing what to say at this, completely at a loss of words. "You what? Hang up my what-?"

"Precisely my point," Riddle said with finality, another smirk forming on his lips. "So Fridwarn, the conversation which I happened to overhear yesterday… I would be contented enough to return this if you were to explain it yourself. And… as for _Hornby_, for the sake of your friend's _dignity_, do consider my _offer_. And Fridwarn, a parting word: Hornby's fate… It lies in the truthfulness of your answer." Riddle contemplated awhile more, a deadly calculating look on his features. "I wouldn't like to resort to... any worse means, would I?"

_Threatening? Is he threatening us?_

It began to strike Ginny that Riddle was not only harassing herself, but he, behind her back, had also gone further to harass poor Olive. Did that perhaps explain Olive's traumatized look on her face? What did he do exactly? Cruciate her? Please… no! Not an unforgivable curse!

Ginny's wand directed itself to Riddle unconsciously, and anger coursed through her veins. Extortion, harassing, torture, threats- these were the ways of the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord who had mercilessly separated her from everything she had. And now... harming Olive, probably the only person she actually cared for here. She hated him. Hated him with all her heart.

_I hate him. I'll never forgive him. Never._

"Leave. Olive. Alone!" Ginny yelled, sending another surprisingly powerful non-verbal spell towards Riddle, whose wand was drawn in a blur of the moment _incinerating_ it with a flick of his wand.

Absolutely shocked expressions reappeared on the faces of the death eaters, as though they had just witnessed a troll count to ten. Black for instance, couldn't understand how anyone could muster so much courage as to do even say a word against someone like Riddle. Lestrange, however, had just dropped her levitated belongings out of awe at her audacity.

She hadn't thought retrieving her belongings could have been such a crude and simple task. Seizing the opportunity, she lunged for it, her wand arm instinctively aiming itself directly at it. Her belongings, bolted upright, and jumped into her grasp. She glanced up to Riddle and smirked the 'Slytherin-trademark-annoying-smirk' back at him just to let him receive a taste of his own medicine.

The victories sensation didn't manage to last very long though, for the Common Room door burst open at that very intense moment.

"My Lor- Riddle. Professor Merrythought sent me to ask Slughorn to err… stop talking already," a wizard with outstanding spiky hair called out meekly from the door. "She's not too happy because it's been half her period already…"

_Ooops… Defense Against the Dark Arts. We've practically missed half her period dueling down here…_

* * *

><p>Everyone in Hogwarts knew from small talk and gossip, that Professor Merrythought was a most gorgeous half-vampire, whose age was thrice of that of Dumbledore. She was literally as old as the hills.<p>

"_My mother said that Vampires age ten times slower than a normal wizard does. See Professor Merrythought? She's a half breed. Seems in her thirties, but really, she's three hundred!" _

"_A half-vampire? Merlin's teeth! She won't be sucking our blood, will she?"_

"_Sucking our blood? You're worst than a troll! She's a vegetarian one- or why would Dippet let her in the first place? Ah, anyway she's the greatest professor at Hogwarts. That's all that matters."_

Even Olive had mentioned that the Slytherins even had a rather high degree of respect for her, a half-breed like Hagrid, and, certainly, that must be hard to earn.

Well, Ginny, Olive, and Riddle and his cronies had stepped into class (escorted by that boy) and there seemed to be no sign of Professor Merrythought in sight. Their classmates, consisting of the familiar faces of both Slytherins and Gryffindors were unusual silent, which was funny because if there was no professor in sight, shouldn't they be killing each other or trying to mull one another's head off already? Strange.

"Err, Olive. There's no professor in class… - OFFF! EEEEEK! –" Ginny suddenly felt a soft slender hand on her shoulder, succeeding in identifying the exceedingly pale hand (even paler than that of Riddle's) at once, "Err, sorry Professor, um, where'd you come from? You just appeared…"

_Great Godric! I didn't even hear or see her approach me… That's… freaky!_

"Is that so, Ginny?" A flawless goddess-like lady, whose eye-catchingly sharp features could not have better suited her, flashed a dazzling smile at Ginny. "It's great assurance that my hunting skills have not completely gone to waste."

She was just… _beautiful_. Ginny wasn't even trying to be biased or anything. It was- a typical fact. And according to Olive, once again, as long as you were male, and below thirty, you had very very very high chance of developing a crush on her. Well, now, staring straight at her professor's perfection, Ginny had to agree.

"Hunting… Hunting skills, professor?" Ginny stuttered, at a loss for words.

"Yes," the Professor's eyes then swept through the eight latecomers, as though inspecting them one by one. "But that's not the point. Care to explain why all of you late?"

"Well…" Ginny began, but Riddle interrupted her before she could even think of a proper excuse which did not go along the lines of 'oh, I was throwing hexes at Riddle because he and his gang wanted to hang my underwear up in the Slytherin common room'.

"Professor," Riddle replied, his voice velvety- and laced with charm, obviously trying to kiss up to her ass. "We do enjoy this period immensely, but unfortunately, we were called out by Professor Slughorn regarding the Slug Club."

"Every single one of you, Tom? I thought only seven of you." Merrythought questioned shrewdly and sharply, obviously doubting his answer, and Ginny was completely blown over in amazement! _Professor Merrythought was not even affected one bit by Riddle's charm! _Ginny decided that besides Dumbledore, Professor Merrythought was currently her favourite teacher in the entire Hogwarts.

"I'm afraid so, Professor," Riddle bowed his head in false regret before gesturing to the boy who had led them to class. "But I did request for Blaise to inform you of our late arrival."

The boy, Blaise, quickly nodded in agreement with his 'lord-and-master', so as to avoid getting him into trouble.

The Slytherins waited in bated breath for their verdict, while the Gryffindors waited in glee. The atmosphere in the class couldn't have been more mixed up.

"Very well, Tom. At least you took the initiative." -the half vampire wrung her arms, still frowning- "But Horace has eaten into half my lesson- I must have a word with him." And Ginny swore she saw Riddle tense slightly at this, but relax again in a split second as though nothing had ever happened.

"Thank you, Madam," Riddle nodded once gracefully instead, before filing after his followers into the empty seats reserved just for them on the 'Slytherin side'. There was a girl seated behind him (apparently, she had taken the intiative to reserve their seats), notably with startling orange hair styled in an old fashioned manner, a fair complexion, and would've been average looking if not for her overuse of make-up on every aspect of her face which made her out to seem like Professor Mcgonagell's Cat Animagus. Ginny watched in disgust as she leaned forward to flirt with Riddle on goodness-knows-what sort of rubbish, batting her eyes every five seconds. Riddle, on the other hand, didn't even seem disgusted for that matter. In fact, anyone who hadn't any contextual knowledge on the Dark Lord could've mistaken him for enjoying the conversation.

He really did have a high tolerance level when he tried.

"Ginny," Merrythought (did have an unusual exertion on people's first names) called as Ginny was about to take her seat on the Gryffindor side of the classroom. "Has Tom informed you yet?"

"I apologize, Professor. It must have slipped my mind," Riddle's eyes quickly flickered away from cat-girl, and up to Merrythought earnestly at once, before shooting a poisonous glare at Ginny for some reason that she just couldn't comprehend.

Merrythought accepted his point impartially, and then her beautiful face stiffened as she glanced over sternly at Ginny. She still was a beauty of course- she would always be a beauty no matter how much she tried to scrunch her face up.

"Ginny, about the illegal duel past curfew you had with Riddle yesterday-"

All sorts of varied noises erupted from the class. Most of horror and shock-Slytherins, some in profound awe and respect-Gryffindors, and others just for the sake of creating some sounds. The noises increased in frequency and volume, until...

"Silence," Merrythought said, the charisma she exuberated equal to that of Dumbledore's in another fifty years time. And the class's commotion died down immediately without another gasp from _even_ the bimbotic girls from Slytherin. Now _that_ was an amazing feat. Merrythought paused, before continuing, "You'll be having detention, this Sunday night, _with_ Tom, in the Ember forest. Are you clear?"

Ginny opened her mouth to deny all charges about the duel, but soon it dawned upon her that the woman who'd caught Riddle that day was none other than the stealthy footed half-vampire. Honestly, there was no point in arguing seeing that she witnessed most of it.

_Wait, did she say __**with **__**Tom**__? WHAT? He's going to grab this golden opportunity to kill me and stuff my body in a tree!_

Everyone right now, seemed to be trying to get a clear view of the 'famous-Fridwarn' who had been so audacious to actually dare to stand up to _evil_ Riddle/ or dared to attack the _amazing_ Riddle, depending on which side of himself he had revealed to you.

Ginny, however, in spite of Olive's reassuring gentle pat and hand squeeze, felt completely overwhelmed by the sudden attention she was receiving. _Honestly, it's not like I managed to kill him or anything. _

She scanned the classroom, the sea of unfamiliar faces scaring her- Till Sestenal's 'out-of-the-norm' dazzling smile diagonally across caught her attention, and for some reason, she grinned back involuntarily. Sestenal, laughing at her goofy grin, made some complicated hand signs and mouthed some words which Ginny deciphered (hopefully correctly, especially the duck part) as: _Did you thrash that __duck__ in dueling?_

_Almost, _Ginny mouthed back, _I'll murder him next time I swear._

Sestenal flashed another shimmering 'make-girls-shriek' sort of smile back and Ginny wondered what could've possibly possessed him to be so generous with his smiles on a Slytherin, that day. Unlike Riddle's, they were all genuine. He must be in a particularly good mood- which was strange, considering his best mate Potter hadn't even recovered yet…-

"Professor," Riddle was appealing smoothly, trying desperately to wrap this professor around his little finger as well. _That little viper. _"I vow that I took no part in the duel-"

"Tom," Merrythought whispered understandingly, walking silently towards Riddle, before placing a hand on his shoulder, causing him to tense slightly. -Ginny couldn't help but notice that Riddle's paleness was equal to that of a half-vampire- "You have to understand, I'm not punishing you because of the duel. But because, you were up past curfew when the schedule showed that it was clearly not the day of your patrol duty." A hesitation before she continued, and Merrythoughts voice grew considerably softer, "And as a prefect, the school has high expectations… of you to set a role model for the rest of the students. But I believe you can meet it, and besides..." -Merrythought turned her head silently, her slender pale fingers gesturing in Ginny's direction- "Ginny is new here, isn't she? She'll need an escort in the Ember forest."

_Riddle was up past curfew without a proper reason? Why I am not surprised?_

Riddle opened his mouth, before closing it once more, the failure of his charm rendering him wordless. "Very well, Professor," he finally conceded. "Very well."

"Not to worry, Tom. I believe all Hagrid" -Ginny caught Riddle's slight tensing at that name, but no one else seemed to have noticed- "requires you to do is to collect Ember Berries for the Halloween Ball. It won't be too hard." Professor Merrythought smiled reassuringly- her smile, Ginny noticed, caused many of the Slytherin and Gryffindor boys to wiggle in their seats for goodness-knows-what-reason.

"Thank you, Professor. How very kind," Riddle replied politely, his face a mask of its normal practiced composure, before returning to writing.

Ginny couldn't stop an explicitly wide grin from tainting her features. She absolutely _loved_ and respected Professor Merrythought, the most unbiased and unprejudiced Professor in the entire school. Half-vampires definitely made good Professors.

But as Riddle shot his _'you-are-so-dead-girl'_ death ray glare at Ginny, she knew that there was no wiggling out of this one. She'd always imagined herself of dying a valiant death fighting by the side of the Order of the Phoenix, not by the hand of Lord Voldermorts younger self killing her discreetly in the Forbidden Forest and stuffing her up a tree.

That sort of death, was _not_ cool at all.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm going to strive to complete this story! Maybe around 20 chapters altogether?**


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own harry potter, err, JK Rowling does.**

**Pairing: GinxTom, Remember! Other guys might come to play, but this is the ultimate one! WOOHOO!**

**A/N: I had End of year exams for quite a while. So I think my characters may be quite out of character... Check for me can? I'm pretty new to fanfiction, so if there are any things I'm not doing right, do tell me! And thank you all reviewers who reviewed the last writing! Mashka530, You'reABirdOfTheSummer, Halfblood Awesomness! Thanks so much! Its really encouraging!**

**Previously...**

But as Riddle shot his _'you-are-so-dead-girl'_ death ray glare at Ginny, she knew that there was no wiggling out of this one. She'd always imagined herself of dying a valiant death fighting by the side of the Order of the Phoenix, not by the hand of Lord Voldermorts younger self killing her discreetly in the Forbidden Forest and stuffing her up a tree.

That sort of death, was _not_ cool at all.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9-Rejection, Accusations, Kiddies, Devilish Plots and Plans<strong>

Occasionally, when Ginny reached to arm her wand hand with her unicorn-cored wand, faint rashes would sometimes appear on regions on her skin which came into contact with her wand. She barely noticed it at first- though it did itch terribly, but she simply perceived it as the side-effects of sitting through the Woeful Wizarding War. However, as the days passed, the rashes worsened and became more conspicuous to even her peers. When she walked down the corridors, the scary rashes turned people's heads and caught their undivided attention. Either that, or she was just mind blowingly gorgeous. Well, there was a higher chance of it being the first reason anyway because even girls began to stare at her as well.

Even Riddle began to notice it himself when Ginny was so unfortunate as to be paired up with him during _Defense Against the Dark Arts_.

"_Fridwarn_-" Ginny was really beginning to detest that name, especially when Riddle pronounced it. He was amazing. She never expected something to sound so different when pronounced the same sort of way. For instance, Riddle could flatter the Professors ten times better than her, with the use of _nearly_ the same word choice as her. And yet, when she threw all sorts of obscene languages at him on a daily basis, all he had to do was to pronounce her name once this way to really piss her pants off.

"What?" Ginny snapped, her reflexes jumping to life and taking control of her, sending her into the most silly attack poise.

"I suggest you stop... hexing people," Riddle replied coolly, his masked eyes locked with her own, sending uncontrolled shivers down Ginny's spine. "Your wand, apparently doesn't take a liking to your activities."

_That guy was strange. I mean, yeah, psychotic murderers have to be strange, no?_

"I promise you, Riddle," Ginny swore boldly- after all, she was one to regret on her actions and words after it had _all_ played out- "During this duel, I won't go easy on you if that's what you're getting at."

"Fridwarn," Riddle replied, the tone of his voice once again so _correct_, that Ginny had to fight an impulse to sock him in the face just for _fun and laughter peace and joy. _ "I am not one to stoop to these sort of methods to win a duel."

_Arrogant pigheaded arse._

"Well, that's precisely why you don't win, _Mr Riddle_. About time you start to try out some of those-"

"If you weren't blind, Fridwarn, or mentally challenged, you would perhaps have noticed the rashes forming on your wand hand." As though to prove his words, Riddle leaned forward and lifted Ginny's hand abruptly, causing her to pull away from his grip awkwardly. "This, I'll promise you, is a clear sign that your wand has rejected you. And may I ask why so?"

"None of your business," Ginny bit back, angry at not knowing the reason herself. In fact, this was the first time understanding dawned upon her- why her wand hadn't been functioning up to standard the past few days. It either refused to listen to her orders, or weakened her spells which had been darn right powerful during the Second Wizarding War. She had been able to blast a pillar to pieces then! Now, perhaps she could just scrape by blowing up a rock. "Then I suppose when I beat you Riddle, you should be more than embarrassed."

"_If_ you even manage to stand as my opponent for five minutes, Fridwarn, which I doubt myself."

* * *

><p>Riddle had been right.<p>

So many horrid things were going on at one time, that Ginny could barely keep track of them all.

Firstly, she was up against the Dark Lord himself- and that was bad, right? I mean, if he chose to use some unknown advanced spell on her and say '_oops, my bad, I TOTALLY didn't mean to_' later, Ginny would probably find herself joining Myrtle in her bathroom, and actually painfully witnessing Riddle, her murderer, becoming Head Boy or something.

That really did little to comfort her.

Secondly, Ginny was panting and sweating all over- which was a result of ducking constantly, and rolling all about the floor (tearing her cloak) to avoid Riddle's extremely advanced and goodness-knows-what-they-could-do type of curses. She wasn't eager to find out what they actually induced in a homo sapien. She had obtained several grazes and bruises lining her lower calf from doing so, but that was something to give thanks for already. After all, the Second Wizarding War gave her some nasty mortal wounds which was a hundred and one times worst than her state at the moment.

Lastly, her wand just had to stubbornly ignore her- frequently letting Riddle off the hook by causing curses to miss epicly, and suppressing spells which should have won over Merrythoughts approval. Freak that wand!- focusing like nuts to curse Riddle and receiving a_ You-Loser_smirk from a undoubtedly handsome looking Dark Lord (whose face should've been covered in boils by the _Furnunculus Curse)_ on the other end was getting extremely tiresome and annoying. It was a pity because she had been drawing up an entire plan for Riddle ever since she had been announced as his opponent, first freezing, then burning, then maybe warts.

But worst of the worst of all the horrid things was that:_ Riddle had been right_. _And_, he seemed to acknowledge that perfectly well.

And then, when things were as bad as they were already, a emerald green light had to be propelled out of Riddle's wand at that exact timing in which Ginny was speculating about that war... Snippets of the killing curse flashed through her mind, and adrenalin coursed through her body, causing her to raise her bloody traitorous wand once more in defense.

She didn't think twice as usual, simply acting on paranoia instinct and in self-protection. _Take him down first, before he does to you. _That was the rule of survival.

"_Ava..._" Though fortunately and unfortunately, she didn't make it too far.

* * *

><p>And that was how Ginny ended up in Professor Merrythought's office- shivering a bit, but very much alert.<p>

Surprisingly, for a half vampire, her office slanted more towards the human side. In fact, it seemed rather comfortable, with cushioned seats facing each other across her work desk, and a nice little rocking chair next to a round-well-like-thing. Ginny had expected something more along the lines of coffins in place of cushioned seats, cobwebs spun by spiders at the corners of the walls, and bottles filled with blood lining the shelves. Or maybe- Ginny had read too many vampire/witch romance novels and her imagination had really become too wild for her own good.

The only things that actually stood out was: the 'round-well-like-thing', and the moving photographs which filled the walls of the room.

"Ginny."

Ginny swiveled around to face the half-vampire, only to find that in that split second of reaction time, Merrythought had superhumanly shifted herself, from the entrance, to practically the other end of the room. This, was really creeping Ginny out.

"Yes? Why'd you suddenly want to see me? I mean- we were dueling halfway and then-" Ginny side-glanced Merrythought anxiously, "And then, you cut short the lesson. I don't understand… What… what happened?"

"Firstly, have a seat-" The half vampire was at Ginny's side once more, gesturing seriously to the comfortable chair across her work desk, and Ginny followed her instructions by seating herself. "Secondly, let's be honest here- Both of us know that you attempted the _Killing Curse_ in mid duel."

Ginny's insides began to meltdown at the accusation. Her trained instinct told her to grab for her wand, but the logical side of her pointed out that there was no way a Professor would attack a little kid. "N... No…"

_A lie. A blatant lie. But how did she… ever guess? I didn't even finish the curse…_

"Ginny." Merrythought folded her long pale fingers, and knitted them thoughtfully. At this moment, Ginny was pleasantly surprise to notice that she barely looked furious- or, wasn't even close to flustered. "You've been in a battle before."

This question- or no, this statement, threw Ginny off guard. Frankly speaking, she had expected Merrythought to pack her up and ship her off to a cell in Azkaban. Apparently, she didn't look like she was in the mood to, but who knew, perhaps when she was done with the interrogating part, she just might.

_Keep your guard up Ginny. IF she does, fight for your freedom._

"How'd you know?" Ginny managed, realizing with pride that she hadn't stuttered in that sentence.

"And a real siege too, I must say-" Merrythought her gorgeous face lighting up as she smiled understandingly at Ginny. "As a _Defense Against the Arts_ teacher, wouldn't it be a pity if I couldn't tell?"

"What?" Ginny gulped, the thought of whipping her wand out occurring to her once more. That was about three things who knew somewhat about her strange arrival here. Dumbledore, a sorting hat, and now Professor Merrythought. How bad could this situation get?

"The stance, the positions, and the _manner_ you dueled Ginny- was very aggressive, similar to that of a highly trained Auror," Merrythought nodded towards Ginny approvingly or disapprovingly- depending on which one you saw it as. "The way you fought, Ginny, was as though your entire life depended on it- And well, most students understand that they have a second chance to stand again if they fall, but you, opted to strike at the opponent and close in on him _first_, before he finished you off. As though you were aware of the slim border between survival and death." She hesitated at this. "And your reflexes, I admit they're truly remarkable."

Ginny bit her lip at this. So it was all out now. Yeah yeah, she fought in the Second Wizarding World War fifty years from now, against all those crazy idiots with black masks running mad round the school, got captured, lost everything to that psychopath, Voldy-Riddle, and got trapped in the 1940s like a loser. End of story.

"I'm completely aware that you didn't intend to use the _Killing Curse_, Ginny," –Merrythought finally came to a conclusion. "Perhaps, unconsciously out of… due to bad experiences- Either way, I shall not probe. But I trust Ginny, I trust you to control yourself in the future."

Feeling a more than wary that Merrythought would let her off the hook so easily, Ginny questioned the most insane question she could fathom, "You… you know, don't you?"

"Know?" Merrythought laughed at this. "Nowhere near. But I dare say I've formed a nearly accurate presumption."

"Accurate..." There was a pause, and Ginny attempted to change the subject. "Err... My wand. I think my wand, well, rejected me during the duel. I mean, you saw didn't you?"

The half-vampire nodded as if it was known fact all over Britain. "And do you have any idea why?"

"No," she muttered. "No idea. It just hates me for no good reason! Its a rotten good for nothing wand! Its not like I killed anyone or anything..."

"Your personality must have drastically changed then. You'll have to go down the Diagon Alley to purchase a new one."

The _'all-seeing'_ sorting hat had suggested her change in mindset and intentions perhaps, and now Merrythought, and even her wand- an inanimate object. If that was the case, she must have... changed quite a bit, no? Hopefully for the better.

"How'd you... know?" Ginny managed, wondering how she had guessed 'her change' and half-hoping Merrythought was just plain stupid despite her reputation for _not-being-plain-stupid_, and all her _accurate presumptions_ just all wrong.

"Ah... Ginny," Merrythought spared her a breathtaking smile at this point, which actually helped to calm her down a bit. "You can say its one of my... _accurate presumptions_."

Ginny drew a sharp intake of breath at the repetition of the phase, 'accurate presumption' before hurrying out of her office, without asking about the '_Extension of Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part Humans to Vampires and Halfbreeds'_ poster, or the well-like thingy that she figured was a _Pensieve_, before the Professor could make any more _accurate presumptions_.

* * *

><p>Fridwarn had tried to use the Killing Curse on him. Riddle was absolutely sure of that.<p>

"Tom." A child's voice- mischievous yet urgent at the same time, whispered from the window of the Slytherin boy's dormitory. Riddle turned, distracted from his thoughts, to find a lithe figure having blasted open the window-pane with a flick of his wand, swinging down from the window sill.

At the mention of his first name, Riddle perked up. Only Thanin addressed him so, and besides, the mischievous edge to the voice confirmed his guess. Within Riddle aroused eagerness, and he had to re-organize down his mental defenses thrown off momentarily by his curiosity, before rising from his bunk and heading over to the Lilliputian figure by the window.

"My word, Tom! Are you nocturnal? I thought I might have to wake you!" The first year exclaimed in a hushed whisper. "Or are you a vampire? I've had my suspicions, really!"

"Hush, Thanin."

Anyone else who'd criticized him so, would've been _Cruciated_ on the spot. However, no matter how Riddle was reluctant to admit, he did have a soft spot for the boy- having experienced the same problems in their Orphanage, and because of his little secret: He actually did like _kids_. Eccentrically, he had never, never dared try to cast an unforgivable curse on a kid, despite having _Cruciated_ thousands his age. And besides, torturing kids didn't make any sense either way. Kids were immature, and easy to charm. If they did take a liking to you- they'd go around doing stupid things, even if it was to solely please their great Big Bro.

"Anyway, Rosier, Mulciber and Macnair are taking the _long_ way up. They'll take some time, having to sneak past the prefects on duty and face the stairs- the suckers, call themselves sixth years?" –Thanin made a face- "I flew in. Simple and useful, you know, being a _Meta-morph-magus-_"

Riddle momentarily clamed his hand down over the mouth of the overly talkative first year, before muttering "_Lumos_", and casting a most powerful silencing charm around them. As the first year struggled in Riddle's surprisingly strong grasp, he warned, "Thanin, I assume you're intending to reveal everything to the world?"

"Nomph!"

"Good," Riddle quirked his eyebrows at Thanin's silly antiques and raving hands, before releasing the boy gently. _First years- they had yet to grow up._ Then, lowering his voice a large notch out of paranoia, Riddle said in Thanin's ear. "The Room of Requirements, _now_." –Thanin tried to cut in, but Riddle ignored him- "No, not a meeting. Just the four of you- I'll start moving. _You_- Inform them, _now_. And Thanin, one more word, and I won't hesitate with the curses."

"But Tom I'm a tired, panting, old and poor haggard-"

"I vividly recall someone boasting about their ability of flight." With eyes searching the dormitories, Riddle again lowered his volume, "_Don't_, Thanin, be such an arse, as to morph _here_."

"Yes_, Daddy_," Thanin didn't bother to suppress his loud moan- instead, amplifying it to irritate Riddle. And in a split second, he disappeared from sight, darting out of the dormitories.

Riddle sighed, _kids. _Sure things, they were a handful, but a useful handful. And apparently from Thanin's bouncy and merry demeanor, he, as a _Metamorphmagus, _and along with is companions, had managed to breach nearly all the barriers of _The Heir of Gryffindor's_ little cubby hideout- and went a step further to _threaten_ him as ordered by their Lord himself.

And Riddle was absolutely certain, that unlike that _weakling_ Hornby who for some reason, _refused to break_ the previous meeting, _The Heir of Gryffindor_ would indeed. Of course, being The Heir of Godric himself, he would be brave- and definitely would give his life to protect the sole family artifact passed down through the centuries… But not if Riddle threatened him- and not with his life, but with everything he possibly cared for.

No one defeated Lord Voldermort. No one challenged him.

* * *

><p>Olive's condition was at its peak worst.<p>

She had stopped talking, stopped eating, and basically stopped all activities in which a human normally carried out altogether. This scared Ginny terribly. Truthfully speaking, she didn't entirely trust Olive. _Never entirely trust anyone_. _Never. Especially not one of those little vipers. _ But for someone who had lost basically everyone, Ginny wasn't keen on losing Olive too. But losing Olive to goodness knows what? – Trauma? And Trauma of what? The dots just stubbornly refused to link up.

After checking Olive into the Hospital Wing (Ginny forced her there), and leaving Olive in the hands of the skilful Matron who for once was befuddled by her patient's condition, asking Ginny countless of questions which- sorry to say- she couldn't answer. And really, if the patient herself refused to speak, the truth would probably never emerge.

Not having her friend around bugged Ginny. And Slughorn, still supremely cheerful about everything, including life, bugged Ginny even more.

"Oh, Ms Fridwarn!" Slughorn exclaimed, before his eyes darted around once more. "You didn't attend the Slug Club meeting last week! I was anguished, Fridwarn! Anguished!"

_Sure. But I thought your star-nerd Voldy was there?_

Instead, Ginny stuck with: "Great Godric! It must have slipped my mind, Professor! And the invitation paper disintegrated on me before I finished reading it, so-"

"Oh!" –Slughorn leaned forward enthusiastically- "Next week's meeting's at the three Broomstick! Tuesday, Eight! A good place for merry making and socializing! Don't forget, Fridwarn!"

Ginny remembered how Slytherins were technically pro in potions and the idea of socializing with one of those snakes, especially with absence of Olive, freaked her out. She attempted struggling for an excuse out of her damned corner, but Slughorn had taken her wide-eyed expression for that of excitement, and had sauntered off humming happily.

_Damn._

* * *

><p>"<em>Filthy Slut<em>- Not bad, are you?" The cat-Animagus-girl sneered, her wand pressed to Ginny's throat. "Managed to catch My Lor- Tom's attention in a month."

_In Merlin's name! She's been hit by a bludger to her head!_

Ginny shifted her weight from her left leg to her right, before feigning to the left with the force of her right leg, and grabbing the opportunity to deftly ram her wand into the girl's middle, the impact causing the vain girl to fly backwards.

_"Expelliarmus!"_ Ginny thought- making use of the girl's stunned shock and pain-recovery-period, and disarming her immediately. The spell had come out weak, but at least it was on check, and it did do its job rather well.

_Great, at least my darn wand has the sense of favouring its master over that Cat-girl. I'd have snapped it into two if it preferred that Cat-girl._

_Attack first, interrogate later._

The same moment the Cat-girl hit the floor with a cracking thud, her wand flew with a beautiful curved ark into the hands of Ginny simultaneously.

This would sound extraordinarily cliche, but Ginny really couldn't have described it in any other way. Cat-girl's wand felt as though it belonged in the palm of Ginny's hand, forever, and forever more. It was like Ginny's first kiss with Harry (not a very good example). That warmth it produced, which surged through her entire body, as though they were meant to be together. As though they were meant to be.

Then, cautiously, switching to Cat-girl's wand instead, Ginny trained it on the wincing figure before her- whose auburn blazed hair was spread out evenly on the cold tiling, then advancing forward.

"You've sat through too much Divination, cat-girl- Drives the mind crazy after awhile. What in Merlin's name are you sprouting about?" –The girl, sprawled on the floor, didn't bother to insert a snide remark at this, instead focusing her effort on hefting herself off the ground with the kind support of the wall- "Not surrounded by that aristocratic bunch of noobs, are you? Apparently, if I were to bench their skill with yours, they're as good as trolls with wands."

_A bit too Slytherin of me, I know- but to the hell with too Slytherin or not! I really don't get how walking around a corner casually offends that vain harebrained idiot!_

The cat-girl's fingers curled into a clench at this, and with another attempt, she succeeded in hauling herself off the ground. Slowly, Ginny watched as she straightened her hair vainly, anger coursing through her- for two reasons. Firstly, for being disarmed, and secondly, for messing up her make-up.

"Oooooooh," –the Cat girl shot back- "and where has that darling friend of yours, Hornby, run to? Just cos' she's match-made to Abraxas doesn't mean she can just, slither out of lessons- Not that Abraxas even likes her or anything. If I were Abraxas, I'd rather marry that _rotten ogre Hagrid_."

"Match-made to Abraxas? Match-made to that... You're crazy, woman."

"You don't know?" She giggled- a high pitch throbbing sound which was very much similar to that of Myrtles. "Hornby- How pathetic that girl!" _Speak for yourself._

"Don't make me hex you, girl."

Cat-girl cooed at this, completely ignoring the warning and batting her eyelashes at a frequency which succeeded in annoying Ginny, if that was what its purpose was. "Hornby- Match-made to Abraxas, what a _hilarious_ joke! Getting into the _Commission_ because of that- a greater joke! She never deserved that position- Oh, hilarious! Good thing my _darling_ Tom finally put an end to all those jokes!" And with that, she convulsed with waves of laughter. _Laughing at her own joke. _It wasn't even funny to begin with.

_Getting into the Commission. _Had Olive been a traitor too? Betrayal- this hadn't been the first time Ginny had experienced it. It had almost been expected though. _Never trust anyone._ But yet, still an empty sensation lingered within her. A hole in her soul, that was basically what it was.

"Tom?" Ginny felt her body straighten with quaint familiarity at that evil name, and her previous curiosity intensified. "Tom Riddle?"

"Why, jealous are you, Frid-warn?" Cat girl's voice peaked with bitchiness and defensiveness, currently sounding like a five year old kid fighting over a piece of chocolate. "He's mine! My boyfriend! You heard that! Don't you dare try anything-"

"Whatever," –Ginny couldn't care less which girl Voldy fancied. "You said: Tom finally put an end to all those jokes." Ginny, using Cat-girl's wand, had caused it to involuntarily jerked to press against Cat-girl's throat, forcing her against the wall. "Tell me what he did."

Cat-girl gritted her teeth, and tried fruitlessly to bat the wand tip from her throat. She batted her eyelashes once more, out of habit, before scowling, "Hornby was _outrightly_ stupid- she always was. But please, I never expected her to be _so_ stupid as to resist Tom's questioning-"

"Tom Riddle? What did he ask?" Ginny interrupted, before regretting cutting Cat-girl of from her roll of insults.

Too late. Cat-girl seemed to realize how potent the information she was revealing at that very moment, and withdrew from the conversation rashly, glaring at Ginny, as though it was entirely her fault (too thick to realise it was hers for replying), for managing to come so far with the questioning.

"You're going to tell me, cat-girl," Ginny threatened, finding her voice unusually weak. _I'm not very good at this, am I? _ "Or else… Or else…"

"Or else?" The girl's upper lip curled into a smirk. "Or else what? You're going to hex me? Along a corridor? _Sur_e."

Ginny swallowed the burning rage within her, acknowledging that this point was certainly true. But this concerned Olive, and the state she was currently in. It made complete sense now, and the more Ginny dwelled on that topic, the more she saw the light. The more she saw hope- Hope that Olive hadn't completely betrayed her.

Yes, of course! Olive resisted Voldermort's questioning, Voldermort got jumping mad, Voldermort threw curses at Olive which ended her up in the Hospital Wing, traumatized as hell.

Two thoughts entered Ginny's raging mind at that moment:

_Cruciate that freaking Cat-girl. She wouldn't hesitate with the information._

_Use Legilimency on her. Invade her mind._

Remember how Professor Lupin dealt with the captive Death Eaters? He Cruciated them for the information… The screams, the thrashing, the gore and blood…

_It's unethical Ginny. You're a Weasley, remember? Upright, brave, strong…_

Ginny released the Cat-girl at that thought, lowering her wand with uncertainty back to her side.

"As cowardly as Hornby, now, are you?" Cat-girl chose to scorn instead of thank. Honestly, Ginny didn't, and couldn't understand these Slytherins. First, they boo at Gryffindor because of their chivalry, and secondly, they boo at others because of their cowardice. The clockworks of a Slytherin brain never made any sense.

Ginny deliberately tossed her wand back at Cat-girl, hoping to get a shot at that ugly face of hers in the process, only to realise she had tossed Cat-girl her own unicorn cored wand instead, and to receive another scathing scorn. "Your family apparently, never bothered to bring you up properly. No good, dirty, mudblood blood traitors whom-"

Images of her mother's corpse, lying faced down on the blood stained castle floor, and her father's… Her father's cloak soaked in his own blood… They had fought so bravely, they had resisted the Dark Lord with their _life_.

_How dare she…?_

And Cat-girl's wand was out in Ginny's wand hand, pointing at Cat-girl threateningly- her reflexes faster than even the best Auror of the 20th Century, as she summoned a hex at the Cat-girl.

"_Stupefy_."

It was a simple spell. But for the first time in a long while, Cat-girl's wand and its caster, Ginny worked in perfect unison, united as one. The power of the wand simply amazed Ginny as she watched as a dynamic ray of light erupted from the tip of this wand. The sensation, was just, the feeling of invincibility whole and whole.

_Unlike my own wand, this doesn't even give me rashes or anything... P**erhaps**..._

Cat girl slipped into immediate unconsciousness, appalled at how much in control the opponent witch had over her own wand.

_Oopsies…_

Ginny watched with a mixture of content and hatred as Cat-girl's limp body crumpled to the ground. She deserved it. For everything she'd said and done, Ginny had held out. But insulting Ginny's late family was simply too much for her to handle.

"Ginny..." A faint high pitch voice abruptly echoed in her ear, sending her doubling back in shock. "There's blur old Professor Beery wandering down the corridors, coming round the corner anytime."

It took one second for Ginny to register that it was Myrtle-the-ghost whom had appeared out of nowhere, and was standing before her. She looked from Cat-girl's unconscious self, to the ghost- whose face was all flustered up and fearful for some reason-, before panicking and muttering '_Mobilicorpus_' at Cat-girl's body, causing it to levitate upon command.

"Um… run?"

"There's a broom cupboard on the second level," Myrtle's acute ringing voice sung in her ear. "You can stuff her in it."

Ginny raced down the corridor, legs sprinting as fast as she could, the body of Cat-girl's floating after her. Whereas for the ghost, she merely glided along effortlessly after her, a concerned look on her face.

* * *

><p>"Thanks Myrtle," Ginny said. "I could have gotten myself a two way ticket to the Forbid- Ember forest."<p>

"Actually," the ghost replied, "I had something to share with you. Well, you weren't making yourself very accessible, and poor Myrtle's been scouting the school for a day looking for you! Naughty, naughty! Entrust busy Myrtle with a task, before running off!" The ghost-girl practically screeched into Ginny's ear, intentionally trying to burst her eardrums.

"Oh, Myrtle, please don't start on that now." Ginny side glanced the ghost with a sigh. "My head's already throbbing like mad from taking on that troll."

"So you don't want to know?"

"Know what?" Ginny groaned in defeat. "Yes, yes, I do want to know if its anything near useful."

"Like stalking that boy- whats his name- oh, yes, Rai-ddle or something like that. Okay, fine, I won't tell you a thing."

"Stalking RIDDLE?" Ginny screamed at the mention of his name. "MYRTLE IF YOU DON'T START TALKING, I'LL KILL YOU AGAIN- EVEN AS A GHOST!"

Myrtle giggled, and sang in the most annoying tune ever: "Oh, Ginny doesn't want to know-" (Hats off to those who guessed the tune!)

"To the hell with that, I swear, tell me now, if not I'll-"

"You'll what?" The ghost questioned, looking unusually interested in what Ginny had in mind for an already dead kiddo. "You'll do what?"

"Nothing," Ginny replied in exasperation, trying hard to switch the subject from such a useless topic, and nearly dying of anticipation. "But do, Myrtle, PLEASE, in Merlin's name, tell me what you discovered."

Myrtle gave in at that- AT LAST. "Well, I was following him around. And he kind of turned around many times and began casting all sorts of spells trying to find out who was stalking him- Ooooh! It was funny seeing him trying to uncover _nobody_! And he-"

"Skip that, skip that!" Ginny scowled impatiently. And when Myrtle's eyebrows knitted into a frown, Ginny corrected herself, remembering her foolish error she committed with Cat-girl. "On second thought, do continue."

"As I said, I followed him. And then, one day, he went to the seventh floor. There wasn't a door there at first. But it suddenly appeared, and Ooooh, he stepped in, and I followed through as he did. And he... Well, there were group of people there. Like six handsome-o-guys sitting on top, and around 15 or so sitting around a circular table below- there was that girl you hexed, and yea others.. And then... Oh yes! Obnoxiously Olly was there! She's consorting with the devil, she is! I know! And he talked blablablablabla- he wanted to hurt Draven, and I wasn't really looking, but he got all mad all of a sudden, and aimed his wand and Hornby. And he was asking something about OOooOH! You, yes you!, and Olive wasn't replying, and then he cast something on her, and she was screaming... Oh Ginny, a terrible sight... And she was thrashing about, and...-"

"You're telling me Myrtle," Ginny heard her voice shake as she whispered the the three dreadful words which left her mouth. "_Riddle Cruciated Olive_?"

"What's that?" The ghost shivered, her girly giggling completely leaving her, not liking the word one bit. Now she was finally behaving in a serious manner. Ginny had once told herself that the day Myrtle was serious, the day Blasted-end Skrewts would fly. Well, technically something crazier had happened, like for example, Ginny thrown back into the early 20th century without any sort of rhyme and reason...?

And Ginny realised that Hogwarts in the early 20th century probably never taught the students to recognise or cast Unforgivable Curses, which explained Myrtle's unsure demeanor.

"And he was asking about me? W.H.A.T?"

The ghost cast a apprehensive look at Ginny. "A bit. Nearing the end of the meeting. Mostly it was about retrieving something, and threatening..." the ghost's eyes shifted to Ginny uncertainty. "threatening... Draven."

"Okay, alright, I've gotta run, Myrtle," Ginny shook her head rapidly, anger and hatred rising from deep within her. "I'm going to... tell a Professor."

Myrtle zoomed into her path way, causing Ginny to run through her, which wasn't a very pleasant feeling on the whole. "Some advice from a dead person: That sort of thing doesn't work. Rai-ddle and his companions just have to deny it. You know they will. And you're ghost-meat."

"Thanks for the... you know, support?" Ginny muttered, slowly hesitating in her steps. "What should I...-" Ginny looked from the unconscious cat-girl to Myrtle, and suddenly a thought struck her. A terrible, exhilarating, spine chilling, crazed-blowing thought.

"Say Myrtle, you said Cat-girl attended the so called 'meeting' didn't you? You sure?"

A pause. "Yes. But why? What does that have to do with anything anyway?"

"Polyjuice potion," Ginny recalled Slughorn's lesson with dread. "Cat-girl's unconscious, I have her wand. I'm going to crash Riddle's party as cat-girl, find out what he's up to, gather incriminating evidence, and report him."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: The last part was written in a bit of haste cos my dad wanted me to sleep now... :(**


	11. Chapter 10

**Warning: Um.. enjoy? **

**Pairing: GinxTom**

**A/N: Thanks to those who submitted reviews and subscribed to story alerts or placed this under favourite stories! :D Thanks loads! Its really encouraging! And criticism is really welcomed! Is it too longwinded? Boring? Plot too slow? I don't mind. And sorry the detention part is taking so long to come... So is the slug club. It'll be here by Chapter 12. **

**Previously:**

_"Polyjuice potion," Ginny recalled Slughorn's lesson with dread. "Cat-girl's unconscious, I have her wand. I'm going to crash Riddle's party as cat-girl, find out what he's up to, gather incriminating evidence, and report him."_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10-Polyjuice Pandemonium<strong>

Of all things, Ginny could barely believe she had resorted to stealing. And stealing the ingredients of a Polyjuice Potion! That, was certainly Slytherin.

But she really didn't have much of a choice if she did want to crash Riddle's meeting as Cat-girl, which Myrtle had corrected the name- as Dimitri. Dimitri _Lestrange_, that was. Utterly sickening. This explained her disgustingly maddening behavioral traits, which included for one thing, flirting with the Dark Lord. And what's worst was that her daughter (Bellatrix Lestrange), about thirty years younger than she was, would take up that sport as well. Flirting with an old man. _The wonder_.

"So this is Sluggy's lair," Ginny mouthed to her companion- which sad to say, was a miserable little dead ghost-. "I expected more- I mean, where's all the bubbling cauldron stuff?"

Myrtle shrugged and swooped _through_ Ginny deliberately to gain access to Slughorn's pitiful office, causing Ginny to sock her through her stomach, and scowl bitterly, "Gosh Myrtle, in the name of _Merlin's-hairy-eyebrows_, don't!"

"Poor poor Myrtle, always getting beat up-"

Ginny simply ignored the rest of Myrtle's droning moans, moving towards the first cupboard. "I think the ingredients we-I need are in one of the three cupboards. Got to try our luck." Ginny hesitated for a moment realizing Myrtle wasn't even listening to her, before deciding to talk to herself, "I suppose this one will have to do for a start."

She leaned forward to touch-

"DON'T TOUCH IT!" A male voice- a boy's voice, suddenly burst out with vigor from behind her, and a pair of hands spun Ginny around, and away from the cupboard, the impact causing her to slam head first onto the hard floor.

Dizziness overwhelmed her. The first thought which hit Ginny was: _Myrtle, your voice sounds deep! _Before she began to register the fact that there was no way the ghost could've grabbed her. _Go through me, yes. But not grab!_

"Sorry Laddie. No matter how blur that Sluggie is, he wouldn't leave all his precious ingredients out in the open- up for grabs. The cupboard's mightily Charmed."

As Ginny's vision began to clear itself once more, the image of two _well muscled_, lean and overall good looking boys appeared before her. She rubbed her eyes once more. This was too good to be true! She wasn't boy crazy or whatever, but hey, this was amazing! To fall, and be greeted by two remarkably handsome guys was out of the normal, huh? Woah, and they even met the Gryffindor criteria too!

The one without glasses was Sestenal! _And hey, isn't the bespectacled guy __**Harry Potter**__?_

"Harry Potter?" Ginny gasped, staggering to her feet with frightful girl power- especially after such a great fall, causing the two boys to take a step back involuntarily. Ginny still felt slightly groggy. Similar to walking along a tightrope without your wand and your eyes crisscrossed.

"_Harry Potter_?"

"Not to disappoint," The bespectacled guy casted a strange look towards Sestenal. He then pursed his lips, and turned to face Ginny once more. "Haven't heard of a Harry around here. Weird name, you know, Harry?" –He inclined his head gentlemanly, before holding out his hand, which, Ginny guessed was the formalities of the early 20th century-

"_Aron_ Potter. Mind you, _Aron-the-Great_. Sorry about that fall back there, but that cupboard's pretty vicious when you get to know it. Sent me to the Hospital Wing blubbering and wailing for two weeks when I tried to steal some Androme Chocolate from there! -Heard Sluggy keeps some of them in his office!"

Ginny wasn't sure whether to feel insulted with the fact that _this_ Aron Potter, whom she had so kindly saved, had unintentionally criticized the name of her boyfriend- her _late_ boyfriend (ironically, his own Grandson). But her head was throbbing badly so...

"Ginerva Molly Fridwarn," she shook his hand awkwardly. _Who does all these formal stuff? _"But I'd rather Ginny if you please."

"GINERVA MOLLY- I MEAN GINNY?" Aron resembled Dobby the house elf now, flushing so hard as though his Master had given him socks or something for his birthday. "YOU SAVED MY LIFE! YOU-" Aron fell to his feet dramatically in mock worship. "My great most High-Highness! What would you like for tea today?"

"Aron," Sestenal finally spoke up, "You're… rather loud. If we are to get caught in this act-"

"Oh yes," Ginny agreed, recovering from the shock and dilemma she had been thrown into earlier by the sudden arrival of these two, before realizing she was in _deep deep shit_.

She had been caught in the act of _stealing_, by a- Ginny's eyes trailed to Sestenal's school uniform-, by a sixth year _Gryffindor_ Prefect. And that was bad because…-she glanced at her own uniform- because she was a freakin' _Slytherin_.

_And Myrtle just suddenly poofed out of existence?_

Not surprised.

"So…" Ginny said casually, though her knees were positively knocking so hard that it was a wonder they didn't hear the terrible din. "How'd you… get here? I mean- I didn't even see or hear you…"

_I'm really starting to get used to people appearing out of now where. First Myrtle, Merrythought, and now these two. Dude._

"Well, there's such thing called the Invisibility-" Aron (while grinning maniacally) never finished his sentence as Sestenal nudged him straight in the stomach, and Aron, being the Drama King as usual, rolled over in feigned pain, yelling, "OOooh! Dravey! You broke at least 10 of my poor ribs!"

Sestenal actually smiled at that. _Smiled_. And Ginny began to make some sense out of their unusually intimate friendship. Aron was a bit nutty and silly up there- and at some junctures, Ginny wondered if he was mentally sound-, whereas Sestenal on the other hand, always stayed calm and levelheaded. Opposites attract. Their personalities just seemed to click nice and well.

"Would you like me to try again, Aron? I could break a combo of 40 ribs perhaps."

"NOOOO! Pleohhhh! NOOO!"

"Anyway-" Sestenal turned back to Ginny, a playful smirk still etched on his features as he watched Ginny raise an eyebrow at Aron's crazed whining. "Don't mind him. Would you care to explain the reason you're here?"

"Um…" Ginny blurted the first thing which came to mind. "Prank. Prank Dimitri Lestrange."

"Prank?" Both boys questioned together, both equally enthralled in their own ways. For instance, Aron had revealed a goofy grin as though it was Quidditch Anniversary Day (if there was one) and Sestenal's smile had widened at that. "Go on," Sestenal encouraged, "Sounds good to me."

"Halloween Ball. Err… I need Polyjuice ingredients. So I can assume her form and steal all her dates." Ginny was rambling now. "I don't like her." _That didn't sound convincing. _"Like really really hate her," Ginny added just to make sure.

"GENIUS WOMAN GENIUS!" Aron positively screamed at this, before doing a little dance. "We're here to…" Aron caught Sestenal's gaze before finishing uncertainly, "prank someone as well."

"Good thing I casted a Silencing Charm" was all Sestenal murmured to himself.

As for Aron, he most definitely ate too many treacles for dessert and was currently on a sugar high. "Look, here's our MASTER PLAN. A drop of Veritaserum into _Riddle's _food, and he'll be spilling all his most embarrassing secrets. Like when he kissed a girl…"

"Wait," Ginny said, slightly shocked at this, a crazy image of snake-eyed Lord Voldermort talking openly about his crushes. _Sounds good_. "Prank Riddle?"

"I hope that doesn't offend you- I mean, if you're one of those lovesick cronies of his..." Both guys' faces darkened simultaneously. And Aron continued, trying to defend his prank, "But he deserves it, no? I mean his nose sticks upwards so much that I'm pretty sure that one day, some pieces of owl shit might land inside his nostrils. What do you say?"

"That's amazing!" Ginny exclaimed in reply, surprising both Aron and Sestenal. She just couldn't help but grin with amazement at their audacity,"Wonderful! Yes, that's just… Oh, Aron, I wish I could see it myself!"

"Then we have a deal then!" Aron- who was obviously extremely fond of pranks- smiled at this, a mischievous twinkle present in those sharp green eyes of his. "I really would like to see Lestrange's face- Oh!" -he chuckled at this, and nodded towards Sestenal, though rather silent, seemed to be keeping up with the conversation.

"Look. You get to witness our prank on Riddle- we'll even let you ask some questions of your own… And in return…" He laughed even harder, and Ginny found that she did love the sound of his laughter. "During the Halloween ball, you've got to let us see you as Lestrange!"

Oh, boy, what had Ginny gotten herself into? Aron, was under the wrong impression that she intended to prank Cat-girl at the ball! But no, she intended to morph into her _tonight_ to attend Riddle's little comfy Death Eater meeting when Lestrange was still safely unconscious and tucked inside the Broom Cupboard.

_But you can collect extra ingredients and drink some Polyjuice Potion again just before the ball- to please them, right?_

"Okay," Ginny agreed, an unsettling feeling crawling up her spine. "Deal on then."

Aron held out his hand- no, clenched fist- to her once more. "Deal on then. What're you waiting for?"

"What?" Ginny guessed this was another of Aron's crazy theatrics. "Huh?"

"Well? Give me your hand, woman."

Ginny regarded the Gryffindor suspiciously before handing over her hand, and then regretting doing so immensely.

Aron simply took hold of her hand, advising, "Clench it." Then, he knocked his clench hand with hers: up, down, left, right, leaving Ginny and Sestenal to wonder what the hell he was up to. When Aron was finished, he just looked up enthusiastically, "Deal on then! You can't break this one!"

"Is that the Muggle version of the Unbreakable Vow or something?" Ginny asked.

Sestenal raised his eyebrows in somewhat amusement at both Ginny and his friend, before saying, "Come on," and then raising his wand as he headed towards Sluggy's first cupboard. "Watch here. This, is how you break in."

_So much for being a Prefect._

* * *

><p><em>Bitchy voice Gin, <em>Ginny reminded herself, _use the Bitchiest voice available._

_And breathe. If you act all scared, those 'Death-Eaters-in-the-making' will know._

She barreled through the corridors of the Seventh Floor as _Dimitri Lestrange_, '_Knight' _of the Dark Lord himself, hips swaying as vigorously as she could, nose turned upwards, and even occasionally stopped by a reflective surfaces to straighten her hair. It was harder said than done, and Ginny wondered how Lestrange ever managed to do it her whole entire life. For instance, when you swayed your hips, the risk of hitting passing pillars and walking through Peeves was unusually high. She had crashed into the wall twice already.

Everything was going on fine at the moment, and Ginny really _really_ hoped that Lestrange would stay in her broom cupboard for the time being till this meeting was over. That would certainly complicate things if someone caught two Dimitri Lestranges' walking about the place.

"_Lestrange _here, have we?" A female's voice- _bitchier_ than _Dimitri Lestrange's_! _A feat_!- called out as she rounded the final corner which led to the Room of Requirements.

Ginny (as Dimtri Lestrange) drew in a sharp intake of breath at this, praying fervently, before swiveling around to face the source of the voice.

Behind her, stood a sixth year girl whose beauty- even Ginny couldn't deny. She wore blond curls cascading down the side of her fair heart-shaped face, and had a small nose, and a perfectly proportional cherry lips which parted constantly as she threw insults.

_But wait a second. Who in Godric's name is she? _

"Yes?" Ginny asked the _Ginny-way_, which was the nice sort of way, before realizing her fatal flaw, and clearing her throat once more, and repeating in the _Bitchy-way_. "_Yes?_"

_Ah, much better._

"Finally realized that make-up barely enhances your _troll-like_ features, didn't you, _Lestrange_?" The girl sneered at this, her eyes scanning Ginny's (Lestrange's) face in a sort of way that an arch enemy would.

_Oh shit. I forgot the make-up!_

"No," Ginny rolled her eyes. "Just found out that I'm overflowing with Natural Beauty already."

The girl just cast Ginny the death-ray look, before finding something else to criticize. "The bet you made with me-"

"What bet?" Ginny blurted before biting her lip in utmost regret. "I mean, oh yeah, that bet."

Ginny caught the girl frowning at her, before she changed her expression to that of utter distain. "We'll see who _Tom_ chooses for the Halloween Ball. _I_ win, or you _win. _He wouldn't even cast half a look at you. I believe he's _past_ dating _trolls_."

Oh. Gosh. Were all Slytherin girls like this? That really _really_ sucked. Ginny could barely stand it any longer. It didn't make sense after all to be arguing over guys every single waking hour of one's life. "If that makes you happy, whatever. Bye, good day."

The girl's mouth hung open at the fact that '_Ginny a.k.a Dimitri Lestrange'_ had just dropped the fight like that. She looked as though she had just witnessed Dumbledore in polka-dotted pajamas doing a ken-ken in the forbidden forest with a bunch of blood sucking vampires.

Ginny figured that she had done something criminally wrong to have received such a response. _Oh yes, _Ginny remembered with disgust. _Lestrange is a Riddle lovesick fan._

"I mean," Ginny corrected her previous lines, "why are we fighting over this-"Ginny blanched at her later words. "Of course Riddle _loves_ me more."

"You! How dare you suggest-" The girl shrieked. "We'll see! We'll see about that! He'll ask me during the meeting! You'll see! You'll see!"

_So that girl was one of Riddle's Death Eaters too. Oh happy day._

Ginny just ignored her and walked (with that darn girl still hammering at her) to the supposed entrance of the Room of Requirements to be greeted by a lean boy with black hair cut in the old fashioned way, a firm jawline and a pair of dark eyes which was set on studying people intensely.

She recognized him as the Ravenclaw Prefect always hanging about Riddle- _Daniel Pocock_.

He acknowledged Ginny's raving mad companion briefly, whose demeanour had completely changed in a split second to one of respectful and flirtatious. _Amazing that girl, a formidable enemy_. Then, with a small smile, the boy had turned back Ginny (Dimitri Lestrange), "Is it a special occasion today, Lestrange? Not a single trace of make-up on you."

_Okay, that was one major serious flaw._

But Ginny couldn't keep boasting about her natural beauty, hence she came up with a logical excuse which included some criticizing which was the Slytherin's style. "Um, the first year Hufflepuffs you see. Those brats, urg, my head was throbbing and so I decided to screw make-up for today." _Not convincing._

"Yes." He wasn't looking at her- but still, he bought it! YIPPIE! "Hufflepuffs, their lack of quality-" He never finished with his brutal insult as a large door- Ginny recognized it as the same door she had met with the previous time!- appeared before them. "Great, let's make haste."

That darn bratty girl on the other hand, was shooting poisonous glares over at Ginny- angry at her ability to win over the boy's entire attention. Ginny, who wasn't even trying to act like Lestrange this time, stuck her tongue out at the girl. _The sucker._

The trio stepped into the _Room of Requirements_.

* * *

><p>Ginny filed in last out of the three. Never had she imagined the Room of Requirements to be so large and spacious. But then again it was the Room of <em>Requirements<em>, taking the shape as one required. It was a plain room, but a well to do one. The room consisted of a slightly elevated platform, and a parliament table set on the ground level. Seven seats had been placed on the platform- and they were filled by Bastian Rosier, Abraxas Malfoy, Alphard Black, Jonathan Mulciber, Camden Avery and David Pocock respectively- leaving the middle seat empty. Approximately 15 seats lined the Parliament table below, and they were filled with mostly unfamiliar faces.

Barely anyone looked up when Ginny stepped into the room. They were all doing their own goodness-knows-what personal things. She really didn't intend to disturb them- and hoped to draw as little attention as possible…-

"No make-up today, Lestrange?" Malfoy had to, _had to_ stick his nose in someone else's business.

_Now, how would Lestrange reply to this? _It was stupid really, asking herself how Lestrange would react to something when she was supposedly 'Lestrange'.

"Nope." Ginny decided this was the safest answer. "I-"

"No, _sir,_" Black, sitting on the Platform, corrected sharply, eyes staring acutely at Ginny. "If your memory has failed you, Lestrange, during Commission Meetings, you, have to adhere to the accurate formalities."

_Damn. I have to stop with these 'slips'._

"No _sir_," Ginny muttered tersely through gritted teeth, deciding to just conform for once. "The Hufflepuff's caused my head to throb, so I gave up with the make-over."

When both Malfoy and Black had lost complete interest in the conversation like total stuck-up gits, Ginny began to wonder where to sit. That darn bitchy girl had already seated herself around the 'parliament-like-table' off the platform, and there was an empty seat next to her-

"Thanin," Daniel Pocock's voice threatened softly from behind her. "Off my seat, _now_. Morphing into me or any individual in this room won't be of any help if you plan on entering the Commission."

Ginny turned at this- as so did many pairs of eyes in the room. The familiarity in those eyes gave Ginny a feeling that this sort of thing happened pretty often.

And then she noticed, seated on the platform was one Daniel Pocock, and standing before him, asking him to piss off in a nicer, yet harsh manner was another Daniel Pocock! Merlin's pants! There were two of the same person walking around in this very room! And she'd only noticed now!

Malfoy, the only person in the '7 seater row' tensed at this, rising from his seat at the speed of a Nimbus two-thousand _and one_. "You, Thanin," he practically hollered, "are a bloody disgrace to the Mal-" Malfoy cut himself short at the next word, before deciding that it might just be easier to throw out a whole load of vulgarities to get his point across. "Son of a dirty, bitching' _whore_, a dirty-blooded son of a-"

"_Your father was the whore_, _Abraxas_! Shut up if you barely know the facts!" It was a boy's voice, a young boy's voice which countered the insults indignantly.

When Ginny's eyes once again fell on the pair of Daniel Pococks, she realized that this was no longer the case. Instead of the Daniel Pocock previously seated silently on the chair, he had magically morphed into a completely unfamiliar eleven year old boy. If not for his light brown hair which had the tendency to curl when he was indignant, Ginny could've sworn he was a Malfoy. Similarly to them, the boy had aristocratic features, and like Harry, he had the most piercing green eyes Ginny had ever seen. And… a few strands of his hair had remained Pocock's colour of black. It was pretty hilarious seeing hairs of different hues on the same head.

"_Thanin_," Malfoy snarled, placing a huge emphasis on the name. "You-"

"_Enough_." It was Black, _AGAIN_. Gosh, that guy was really annoying. Did he think he was king or something? "Take the argument outside if you will. Our lord will be arriving very soon."

"Alphard-" Malfoy argued.

Black stared at him coldly for a few seconds, before turning to Thanin and giving him the same type of intimidating 'stare-down' Riddle had subjected her to on her '_first day'_.

"_Alternatively_," Black decided. "Thanin is to _leave_."

"But…" the boy protested, shaking his head vigorously. "Just one time, just let me stay this once… please? I want to hear Tom- I mean, _Our Lord_ speak."

Malfoy shot dagger glares at the boy, Thanin who didn't hesitate to stick his tongue out defiantly at his senior.

It was Rosier's turn to open his mouth from across the alleviated seven-seater table. "Our lord made it clear already: You are not yet of age."

"By the time I'm of age, you guys would've all graduated!" The boy scowled. "It'll be no fun!"

_This is interesting_, Ginny thought to herself. _Who is that boy? Apparently he can morph or something._

Ginny watched with utmost interest as Mulciber turned to Avery seated beside him and whispered something softly.

"_Out_," Black commanded shortly, not bothering to sympathize with his junior. "If you'd like to know, my wand… is by my side, Thanin. You wouldn't want to… force me, would you?" And as though to prove it, Black went a step further to draw his wand, and twirl it casually with his slender fingers.

Malfoy merely smirked by his side.

But the smirk didn't last long for it was whipped of by the presence of his Lord, transforming automatically into a respectful expression. Everyone, anywhere they were in the room, immediately stood abruptly, sweeping into a polite bow. And that was saying something- as even Thanin, the little boy, had lowered his head in humble respect.

Ginny didn't realize how still she was standing, nor did she realize how paralyzed her limbs were until Riddle approached her.

_Breathe Ginny, breathe. Act Bitchy, act lovesick, flirt. _

"No make-up today, Lestrange?" Riddle asked. "That is... a surprise I admit."

Ginny honestly couldn't believe that the Dark Lord would care about such trivial stuff like that when there was some World Domination to get down to. "Um... Throbbing head."

He just stared at her openly, before that masked unreadable expression reappeared on his features.

"If you would have a seat Lestrange," Riddle offered politely, before… _making eye contact_. And Ginny recognized it this time. _Leglilimency. _She could feel his forceful gale in the corner of her mind, pulling, tugging, thumping at the impenetrable fortress of hers.

When all effort crumpled to waste, his brows knitted into a puzzled frown.

_Lestrange must've been an easy target for Legilimency, _Ginny thought. _Does he know it's me?_

"Thank you, _My Lord_," Ginny replied, relief engulfing her for having an excuse to get away from Lord Voldermort. She felt that if she were to dwell here any longer, her legs might just give way from panic and anxiety.

"_Wait_," Riddle commanded once more, placing a hand on her shoulder to restrain her (and Ginny flinched at his burning touch) before removing his prefect badge to the surprise of his Death Eaters. "Levitate this, _Lestrange_."

_What the hell is he doing?_

Riddle stared her once more into the eye, before tossing the badge into the air without warning. Ginny bit her lip, whipping out Cat-girl's wand, feeling the same welcoming sensation surging through her limbs, accumulating within her wand arm. _Come on, she could do it._ If this was a test, she had to pass.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_." Ginny aimed the wand at the falling badge, and the same omnipotent adrenalin was transferred into pure power, propelling out from tip of the wand. Immediately, the badge stopped in mid-fall, as though being held up by some invisible force present.

"I see," Riddle said, his eyes not on Ginny, but scrutinizing Cat-girl's wand curiously. Ginny released his badge with a flick of her wand, letting it fall nicely into Riddle's open palm. "Very well, _Lestrange_, do return to your seat."

Ginny didn't need to be told twice, hurriedly seating herself beside the Bitchy-Girl, receiving weird glances from across the table and ignoring a '_Since when did you sit beside me?_' remark from Bitchy-girl herself.

"_My Lord_," Malfoy piped up from the front. "Thanin, despite _your_ advice, has audaciously attended this Commission Meeting. For disregarding your orders, _My Lord_, I feel that severe punishment is more than necessary."

"T- My Lord!" Thanin yelled. "You see, I-"

"Please, Malfoy," Riddle merely cut in calmly, taking the middle seat of the 'seven seaters'. "Thanin is only here today to describe to us some… very interesting findings in the Room of Hidden Things that he has gained access to. I believe it has to do with the _Heir of Gryffindor's_ little... hideout."

"I see, My Lord," Malfoy replied, head lowered but looking very disappointed indeed at the decision. "I see."

"So," Thanin the first year smirked triumphantly, receiving another pointed glare from all the forth, fifth and sixth years within the room. "Can I sit on Hornby's seat? She ain't coming back from what I heard."

Ginny's gaze immediately snapped up to him, then to the empty seat across her and beside Nott. Hornby? Olive? Again, this was another proof that Olive had been a member of Riddle's little Death bunch. Well, then what happened? What did Thanin mean by 'she ain't coming back'? Ginny really needed to find out.

Everyone turned to their Great Glorious Lord once more, the ultimate decision maker. "Very well, Thanin," Riddle nodded slowly. "As for today, you may."

Again, no one objected this time, but yet, you could tell from the 'long faces' that no one was pretty happy with the admission of a tiny little first year into the meeting. First years had a tendency to go nuts occasionally, and like a typical kid, Thanin had ants in his pants and simply_ could not_ sit still in his seat. He also wouldn't be any of any help when it came to contributing opinions, ideas, or even rebutting it. All in all, it was pretty insulting to have accept an eleven-year old boy amongst the elite ranks of the Commission when even Sixth years were rejected entry.

"Now," Riddle announced smoothly, promptly standing to his feet. "Let the meeting commence, Knights of Walpurgia."

Ginny blanched at the name.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Abraxas and Thanin have past problems in case you didn't understand the feuding parts.**


End file.
